Life, In a Nutshell
by Briememory
Summary: When an accident threatens to rupture our favorite blended family, it is up to Derek to keep them all together. Charged with raising his younger siblings, Marti and Simon, "living life with Derek" takes on new meaning in this funny, heartfelt and interesting tale about how life happens when you least expect it.
1. When You Dream

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek, nor do I own A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers, a novel which heavily influenced the writing of this story.

Chapter One: When You Dream

* * *

And there she was, on a beach, staring back at me from her pink towel. Bright blue waves crashed against the shoreline, spraying water gently over her scantily clad figure. She brushed her hair out of her face, revealing her eyes, willing me to walk towards her. As I sat down next to her, I brushed a stand of hair away from her mouth and pulled her in. As she opened her mouth, I could her whispering to me softly, sweetly.

BRRRING.

Our lips locked and, after some tongue dancing, she stopped for a breath. A gasp escaped her mouth and I could hear it clearly.

BRRRRING.

BRRRRRING.

BRRING.

..::..

My hand started reaching for the phone before my eyes could confirm that it was really early. Not since college had I seen pitch-black 3:27 on a Thursday night. I put the phone to my head and grumbled a greeting, expecting to hear Lizzie or Edwin, the only people who would call me at this hour of the night.

Instead, a lucid stranger returned my unintelligible greeting. "Is this Derek Venturi?"

What kind of a stupid question was that? She was the one calling me at this ungodly hour. But then I noticed the sounds of strange machines whirring in the background. "Yes, but if this is some sort of…"

Her voice went from clear to serious. "This is Dr. Long from University Hospital and you are listed as the emergency contact for George Venturi and Nora MacDonald and there has been an accident."

Her voice went soft as my numb hand dropped the phone on the ground. I managed to pick up the phone in time to hear more details. Michael's on the Thames restaurant; a drunk driver ran the light at Wharncliffe Road and blindsided them. They were rushed to the hospital right away, and the doctor called as soon as they were stable.

"So now what?" I said, clutching the phone to my head as well as I could while putting on my pants.

"Your parents are stable, but you will need to contact your lawyer in the morning," the doctor continued.

"What? Why do I need to call the lawyer?" I nearly dropped the phone as I shoved my socks on my feet.

"There are some legal matters that we will need to take into consideration moving forward with their treatment…"

"Listen, cut the bureaucratic nonsense. These are my parents you're talking about!"

There was a long, sustained pause. On her end, I could hear the blips of machines again, perhaps those hooked up to Dad and Nora. "No, you listen; I don't like giving any news over the phone, whether it's good or bad."

"That means it's really bad, doesn't it."

More blips and whirs. "I'm not going to discuss that with you now Mr. Venturi. I would suggest that you alert your lawyer and family first thing in the morning and come down here before 10 so I can talk with you in person."

I muttered a goodbye hastily as I grabbed my car keys. I threw on a jacket and ran out of my apartment, running down the three flights of stairs to my car. There was only one thought that ran through my head: Marti.

..::..

Around 4AM I pulled into the familiar driveway, next to a covered Prince. Normally I would've laughed at Dad's reluctance to sell that old car, insisting that it was good enough for me, Casey, Edwin, Lizzie, and that one day it'll be good enough for Marti and Simon. But tonight it was different. I lingered as I got out of the car, touching the cold fabric that kept the car in its persistently worn condition, hoping that Dad would notice and come out to stop me from doing further damage to his precious car. But the lights remained off, the door bolted shut.

I walked up the steps and took out my old key, slowly unlocking the door like I'd done countless times in high school. I snuck in, careful not to step on the treacherous squeaky plank that had woken up Dad and Nora dozens of times. I silently shut the door and groped for the switch to turn on the hall light, but then I noticed Marti passed out on the couch, waiting for her parents to come home and relieve her of babysitting duties.

Smirking, I gently picked up the eleven year-old, draped in a pink blanket I gave her before I went to Queen's University six years ago. I carried her up the stairs to her room and gently set her down on their bed. There was a sigh of relief, but a quiet voice asked, "Derek, is that you?"

What do I tell her? Yes Marti, it's Derek. Dad and Nora could be near death at University Hospital. But don't worry because I'm here.

_Tell me the truth, her eyes seemed to say. Tell me what I need to hear, Smerek. Tell me._

_ No Smarti, I can't tell you. I can't make you worry, I can't keep you up on a school night._

_ Der-ek, she replied in her best Casey impression, you aren't really going to make me go to school tomorrow. Besides, I'm eleven years-old. You can tell me._

_ I can't Smarti. One day you'll understand._

A tear ran down my face as I lied. "You're dreaming."

"Ok," came the soft response, followed shortly by deep breathing.

Collapsing on the couch, I set a cell phone alarm for 7AM. Three hours and counting until the longest day of my life. Hell, it already began an hour ago.

..::..

This time, there was no woman luring me back to the land of the living. Instead, it was a small, brown haired boy staring at me. Our eyes met, before Simon suddenly spoke. "Derek, what are you doing here?"

Gently sitting up on the couch, I decided that the best course of action would be to ignore his question. "Making breakfast buddy. What do you want?"

The five year-old in his blue footie pajamas looked up at me blankly. "It's six in the morning. I'm not hungry."

Sure enough my phone agreed with my half-brother's assessment. So much for three hours. Turning off my alarms, I asked him, "Do you like your coffee black or with cream and sugar?"

He giggled as he sat down next to me on the couch. "You're silly. Can I watch TV?"

"Sure buddy," I said, getting up to go into the kitchen. "Just keep the volume down. Don't wake up your sister." I rubbed my eyes as I started the coffeemaker, listening to the sounds of the Wiggles permeate the house. "Not so loud!"

Rummaging through the cupboard for a mug, I remembered all the people I needed to call. Casey and Edwin in Kingston. Lizzie in Montreal. Marti and Simon's school. The Lawyer, presumably someone at dad's firm.

On the fridge were all of our numbers. In case of an emergency. "Mom, cell, work; Dad, cell, work; Derek, School, Casey, Edwin, Lizzie, Marti." I smirked, never having realized that I was the third person on the list, above Casey even. But then again, I'm the only sibling currently living in the area. I picked up the phone and dialed the school number.

"Hello, Thames Valley District absentee line." A cold voice answered. I was slightly taken aback that I was talking to a real person, given that it was still dark outside, but then again normal parents started their day around this time.

"Yes, I'd like to call out Martina Venturi and Simon McDonald-Venturi from school today."

"Mmhm," she said, loudly typing. "Yes, and to whom am I speaking?"

"Derek Venturi."

"I'm sorry, your name isn't on their file. I see only George Venturi and Nora McDonald."

"I'm their older brother and I'm calling under," I paused, making sure that Simon was still glued to the television. "Under extenuating circumstances"

"I'm sorry, but that is not an acceptable excuse. I will mark them both absent, but it will be an unexcused absence until we receive a note signed by either parent."

"That might not be possible," I said, rubbing my palm against my face.

"Yes, well then we might have to determine how 'extenuating' your circumstances are at a later date. Until then, have a nice day." The line went dead, and somehow I wasn't comforted by her faux kindness at the end of the message, though I was glad she didn't give me a chance to argue and potentially reveal the severity of the situation to Marti and Simon.

The coffeemaker beeped twice, and I quickly poured myself a cup, mixing in some sugar and milk before downing it in one gulp. It was going to be a long day, so I poured myself another.

How was I supposed to explain to two elementary school students that they were going to spend the day with me in the hospital, and that I have no idea what condition our parents are in?

How do you call your siblings and tell them the news? Hey, I know you busy and hundreds of miles from home, but get on a train because our parents were in a car accident.

I looked at the clock. 6:12. It really was going to be a long day.

"Simon!" Marti's voice rang loudly from upstairs. Apparently her hearing was more sensitive than I thought. "Mom and Dad told you that you're not allowed to watch TV before school!"

"Derek said I could!" he shouted back.

"DAD!" Marti shouted, "Simon's watching TV AND lying. I need my sleep!"

Once again all I could hear was the sound of the Wiggles, cutting into the silence like a butcher's knife. The unanswered question permeated through the air.

"Dad?"

"Marti," I called back to her. "Simon's telling the truth."

There was a sudden thud as Marti jumped out of bed, followed by the steady pitter patter of her feet through the hall and down the stairs. She ran into the kitchen and jumped into my open arms for a big bear hug. "Smerek! I thought I was dreaming last night!"

"No, I was the one that put you to bed last night. You weren't dreaming." Her enthusiastic smile disappeared from her face, perhaps as she noticed the bags under my eyes, the frown on my face, or the somewhat serious tone in my voice. Though it could be that my little sister realized that I'm never awake at this time in the morning, let alone in my parent's house.

"Why?" Such a simple question, begging a complicated answer that I was still not ready to divulge.

"I'm making pancakes. Do you want chocolate chips?" I lied, finding a box of mix in the pantry.

"Oh," she said, pulling up a seat at the counter. "Sure." I smiled to myself, content that my lie was working. I poured the mix, eggs, milk, and chocolate chips in a bowl and turned on the beater when suddenly Marti spoke again, "But why aren't Dad and Nora home?"

All my attempts at keeping my cool were ruined when I dropped the beater and the pancake batter sprayed the counter and Marti. "Um, they aren't?"

"Der-ek!" My little sister had certainly mastered that tone of voice that made me feel like I'd done something awful. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Listen Marti, you need to keep your voice down because Simon doesn't know." She nodded carefully. "Actually, Lizzie and Edwin don't know either. Not even Casey." She nodded again, slower this time. "Dad and Nora were in an accident last night and they're in the hospital."

Tears began streaming down her face as she quietly choked out, "Are they ok?" I just returned her stare, not willing to hurt her more. But her sobs compelled me to walk over and hug her.

After a few minutes, she slowed down her tears and looked up at me. She was expecting reassurance, the verbal kind. "So, how about those pancakes?" She nodded quietly as I poured the batter onto the pan. I made about a dozen and the three of us ate in silence.

I never thought this house would be quiet again. It seemed that we only ever added more people, never really taking them away. I guess it must've become quiet once Casey and I moved out to go to college, but add in a baby's crying and it should've offset the loss. This was just eerie.

"When are we going?" Marti suddenly asked.

"The bus comes at 7:30 just like every day," Simon said.

"The doctor said to come in before 10," I replied.

"No, the teacher's there by 8, just like the rest of us."

"So what time do you want to leave?"

"When the bus comes!"

"I still have to call Casey, Edwin, and Lizzie."

"Does that mean I have time to shower?"

"NO THE BUS IS COMING!"

Marti and I turned to look at Simon, who was smiling as he ate his pancakes in his pajamas. We then exchanged a quick look and she excused herself to take that shower, leaving me alone with my younger half-brother. "Simon, you're not going to school today."

He looked up at me confused. "I'm not sick."

I honestly didn't know what to make of that comment. What kind a Venturi was he? If that were me, I would've run to the couch and turned the TV back on. "You should be happy. You're not going to school today."

"I like school. I like my friends. I like my teacher. And I'm not sick. So I should go to school. Mom and Dad say…"

"Mom and Dad," I began carefully, "are sick."

"Oh," he said, taking another bite out of his pancakes. "So I'm not going to school because Mom and Dad are sick." He continued on with his breakfast as though this was a perfectly normal occurrence, like the sun rising in the east or the Maple Leafs failing to make the playoffs.

"Yeah. We're going to the hospital to see Mom and Dad…because they're sick." I watched Simon smear maple syrup all over his face, and for some reason I felt guilty. Guilty that I wasn't able to make him see the severity of the situation. Guilty that he didn't understand. But mostly guilty because telling him was easy.

"May I be excused?" He asked suddenly.

"Sure, but clean up and get dressed before you watch more TV."

"Ok," he said as he put his dish in the sink.

"And use soap!" I yelled after him, smirking at the family's unofficial catchphrase.

..::..

While I was cleaning up the kitchen, the phone rang. I was slightly surprised, considering Nora and Dad were usually at work now. But, I did technically have a right to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Derek?" My head and heart started pounding, loudly. "Hello? Derek, is that you?" Casey asked.

"Yeah. Hi Casey, how's Kingston treating you?" I rubbed my hand against my face. God, I longed for those days at Queen's, back when there was no car crash.

"It's fine. Why are you home? Is Mom there?"

"Oh, I um came to take Marti and Simon to school." I banged my head against the wall, knowing what a stupid lie that was. School started an hour ago.

"School started an hour ago." Damn, she was smart. "What aren't you telling me?"

I sighed. "Last night, there was accident. Dad and Nora are at the hospital."

Complete silence.

"Casey?"

"When did this happen?" she cried out in a sob.

"Last night. I got the call around 3:30 and came right over here to make sure Marti and Simon were alright."

"What did they say?" _They._ Maybe she wasn't so smart.

"The doctor said I should go down there today to talk to her."

"The _doctor_! You didn't even talk to them? Oh this is bad!"

"Stop overreacting Casey," I said with my usual charm. Well, I tried to anyway. It sort of came out as a sob.

"Derek, I'm going to load up my car and head out. Call Edwin and tell him to meet me at my apartment in an hour. We'll be home before nightfall." Suddenly, she sounded call and collected.

"You sure you'll be able to drive?"

"Yeah. Just call Edwin. And Lizzie. She'll need to find a plane or train home today."

"Ok. See you later sis."

"Bye Derek."

Click. One down.

..::..

I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Edwin's number. "Derek? Why are you calling me so early in the morning?" he asked groggily.

"Sorry to wake you up Ed. Life as a business major is so tough." I laughed at my own joke. It felt good to laugh.

"Did you call me just to make fun of me?"

"No. Dad and Nora were in an accident."

"Oh." His voice was completely lucid, waking up from a dream and into a nightmare.

"Drunk driver hit them. They're in the hospital."

"Oh." He was continuing to take it all in. I could hear his breathing, short and ragged, over the phone.

"Casey's driving home today. Be at her apartment in an hour. She'll tell you the rest."

"See you tonight then."

Click. Two down.

..::..

"Derek, I don't have time to talk!" Lizzie shouted after the first ring. "I have statics homework due in two hours! And a thermo exam at 3!" I could hear her slamming away at the keys of her laptop.

"Sorry, Lizzie. I know it's hard with the whole engineering thing."

"Seriously, don't have time."

"You can't take that exam if you're going to come home today."

"I don't understand." Her tone changed from harsh to confused. Scared even.

"Dad and Nora were in an accident. Drunk driver. I think you should come home."

The typing stopped. "How serious is it?"

"Serious enough that I'll pay for you to get on the next flight home from Montreal."

"Ok. I'll call you when I land."

Click. Three down. I collapsed on the sofa, relieved that I held it together. I shoved my head into a pillow on the sofa and screamed my frustrations away.

The couch shifted a little as a smaller figure sat down. "Smerek? Are we ready to go?"

Again, that guilty feeling sank in the pit of my stomach. Because calling my siblings was easier than actually dealing with the truth.

* * *

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I tried to remain faithful to the characters and the tone of the show while at the same time adding my own flair of postmodernism that will hopefully shine in the next chapters. Please note that the rating is more for the writing style and dark humor than for language.

Please take the time to review, especially since you have already read the chapter. It makes writing a lot easier.


	2. Who Needs Sleep?

Disclaimer: I do not own the song "Sing Me Home" by Tim McGraw.

Chapter Two: Who Needs Sleep?

* * *

Time-compression isn't a superpower. Time seems to naturally flow faster when we least want it to. Like in college when you have six whole hours to study for an exam. Then you blink and it's pencils down.

Parents say it all the time. We laugh. Because we don't realize how true it is.

One day your dad calls you to ask how you're doing. The next you're parking your car at the hospital to visit him.

"Derek, when's the doctor gonna talk to us?" Marti asked.

"Soon. Just be patient." She had a point though. Sitting in this waiting room, with its paisley white walls, wrinkled old magazines, and fuzzy television, was a lot like torture.

"That's what you said an hour ago."

"Stop being dramatic. It hasn't been that long."

Marti got up and pointed to the television. "This thing's been showing the news for an hour. I've seen the story about the elections three times already. It's been an hour!"

Yeah, it had been an hour.

See what I mean?

"Excuse me?" some older chick in a white lab coat started tapping on my shoulder. "Are you Derek Venturi?"

I stood up and turned around to meet her eye to eye. "Yeah, I am. What's…" On her coat, the words Dr. Erin Long were embroidered in deep red lettering. "What's going on with my parents?"

She motioned to Marti and Simon, who was sitting next to her playing his Gameboy. "I uh, didn't know you had younger siblings. Perhaps they might like to get a snack?"

Marti stood up, looking like a little lady standing only a foot and half under the doctor. "He's oblivious and I'm eleven. You can say it."

The doctor was slightly taken aback at Marti's bluntness, but nodded. "Your parents' injuries are very severe. They were both in surgery for about three hours to stop the bleeding and repair internal damage."

"So, they'll be ok, right? The surgeries are over, so we just need to wait for them to wake up." I half-asked, half-stated. I'd seen a lot of television. _ER, House, _even _Scrubs _and _Dougie Houser_. That's what she was going to say.

She sighed and swallowed hard before she spoke again. "Yes. But right now they are both on life support, and we so far aren't seeing much brainstem functioning."

"Meaning?" I asked. I looked down at Marti. The pain and confusion was written on her face in permanent marker. I grabbed her hand and clutched it tight.

"If the lack of brainstem functioning continues, they will be considered legally dead."

I felt the tears falling down my face before I heard Marti's sobs. The doctor offered me some Kleenex and I blew my nose before I asked my last question. "How long until you know for sure?"

"Well we need to get a few independent neurologists to examine them, so it will take some time until we know for sure."

"Ok." The room went silent, save our loud sobs. Simon looked up confused, but decided his game was more important. I sat down (more like fell) and Marti plopped down next to me so she could bury her tears in my shirt.

"I can take you back to see them, if you want."

Marti nodded and stood up. She clutched onto my hand and attempted to lead me behind her, but I stayed put. "Sorry Smarti. I have to stay with Simon," I lied. I couldn't see my parents on their deathbed.

At least I thought I lied. But then his brown eyes met mine and he softly asked, "Can I see Mom and Dad too?"

Sighing, I didn't know what to say to him.

_"Simon, do you remember when Nana died?"_

_ "Yeah."_

_ "Do you remember why Nana died?"_

_ "Yeah, she was really sick."_

_ "Well, when people are really sick, they either live or they die."_

_ "Yeah, so when do I get to see Mom and Dad."_

Instead, I began by closing his Gameboy. He glared at me and yelled, "Why did you do that? I was playing!"

"Simon, I was trying to answer your question."

"Oh."

"Mom and Dad are asleep. You can see them soon."

"Why can't I wait until they wake up?"

He said it. I was praying he wouldn't say it. But he did. "They might not wake up. So you should see them while they're asleep."

After the dreaded question, I was anticipating the dreaded response. The tears, the screaming, the shouting. Instead, he nodded and waited until Marti got back before the nurse took him back to their room.

"How are they?" I asked her.

She didn't have to respond. She unloaded her eyes, filled to the brim with her sorrow, on my chest, not caring if the whole world could hear her sobs.

..::..

A little while later, Casey and Edwin arrived. I guess it must've been at least early afternoon, since the drive was well over five hours long. God, did I really spend all day in a hospital?

"So, how was the trip?" I asked as I hugged them both.

"Fine," Casey said. "I made it here as fast as I could. What's so important that you couldn't tell me while we were driving?"

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Well, it was big news so I didn't want you to speed up and drive dangerously."

"Too late for that," Edwin interrupted. "At one point she was going so fast we outraced an airplane. We switched at one point and she made me pull over because I wasn't going fast enough"

"He's exaggerating." Casey defended. "It was only a crop-dusting plane, not like a 747. And he was only going eighty. So what's the good news?"

"I said big, not good," I said. And I opened my mouth, explained everything to them, and watched the color, hope and life drain from their expressions. The mood went from somber to downright miserable.

In that moment I realized how lucky the Grim Reaper was. He got to take a life. One life. He didn't have to deal with the repercussions. He didn't have to see the beautiful young women like my stepsister break down, or watch my nearly grown brother cry.

And then I finished. "When can we see them?" Casey asked.

"The nurses can take you back there to see them. Marti and Simon have already been back there."

Damn, I shouldn't have said that. Casey was the only person who would notice and pick up my self-exclusion. Sure enough, a second hardly asked before she asked, "What about you?"

'I uh, don't want to go in just yet." It was true enough.

"Ok then," she replied in a half-questioning, half-skeptical tone.

They spoke to a nurse and walked back to the room while I stayed in the waiting room with Simon and Marti. Although she was trying to do her homework, she couldn't help but look up and ask, "Why are you scared?"

There were so many good answers to that question. Because fear is all that you have left in the absence of all other emotion. Because I have no idea what happens next, where we all go from here. For the first time in a while, I told her the truth, the only thing that made sense. "I don't know."

..::..

Sometime later, Casey and I were alone in the waiting room. I think Edwin took Marti and Simon to get lunch. Or maybe dinner. Either way, I had wanted to go with them, but Casey insisted that I stay. I had been dreading this moment for a long time, and for the first time in a long time, something predictable happened.

Casey sat down next to me, put her hand on my knee and asked me the question that I knew had been on the tip of her tongue for some time. "Why won't you see them?"

"Because. Going in there makes this all…real."

"But it is real."

"No, it's not real. If I don't go in there, they aren't dying."

"Then what are they?"

"I don't know. I'm just not ready to face reality."

"Sooner or later you're going to face the truth."

"And I hope that day never comes." I stood to get up, but Casey grabbed my hand.

"You know, you're being really immature about all of this."

And I spun around to face her. "I'm being immature? I had to talk to the doctor in the middle of the night, sign off on all their medical work, deal with lawyers, and, worst of all, explain to each and every one of my siblings that our parents are dying. I don't call that immature. I'm not avoiding the reality that they're dying. If they aren't, then what have I been doing these past few days? I'm not ready to say goodbye, ok? There, I said it! Are you happy? Welcome to the real world. Let me know when you're ready to go back to Queens."

I turned to walk away again, and all I could hear was her weakly saying my name, in the way that I once dreaded. But she decided not to follow me.

..::..

The first time I got a moment to myself was when I went to pick up Lizzie at the airport. She called me when she landed, but by the time I pulled up to the Air Canada gate she was already there.

"Hey," she said as she threw her luggage into the back of my car. "Thanks for picking me up and letting me use your credit card."

"No problem. I'm just glad you were able to book a flight only three days beforehand. It doesn't matter what it cost."

"I'm glad you're saying that. I was afraid you'd be mad when I told it cost about $600." I nearly threw up. "Derek, stay on the road."

"Yeah, yeah. How was the flight?"

"Awful. I was in airports from 6AM to 7PM. Fun day, right?"

"I'll trade any day of the week." Silence followed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"It's okay. Are things going any better?"

"Not since I called you on Friday night"

The awkward silence permeated through the car a good portion of the ride. She didn't want to ask the questions that I didn't want to answer. Finally, she asked, "How is everyone else doing?"

"About what you'd expect. The only good thing is that the house is full again. It's like Christmas, but without the parents, food, presents and fighting over what we're going to watch on TV."

Then she laughed. And I couldn't help but laugh along. It was the funniest thing that had happened in four days.

..::..

"Derek?" The voice on the other end of the line asked.

"Yes, this is he." I had to walk outside the hospital, into the brisk October air to answer my cell phone, as there was a rule against using cell phones in the hospital. Normally I would have let it go to voicemail, but it was my boss from the London Knights.

"Hey, I know you're having a lot of difficulties, but I need you at tonight's game. It's Kitchner, and I need my Director of Alternative Media on hand. Besides, the Jumbotron technician called out sick, and you're one of the only people that's trained how to use it."

"I know, but I can't leave my family behind in the hospital."

"Then don't. I'll get you five tickets, food vouchers and booth passes. They'll come in, eat, get to come up and see you in the booth, then leave. It'll be good."

"I don't know."

"Listen, you've been in there for a week. What's one night out?"

"Alright. I'll take you up on the offer."

"Good. And don't tell anyone about the tickets. We'll just keep that between you and me"

I hung up the phone and walked back into the hospital, through the familiar hallways and staircases to the waiting room of the ICU. "So, I have to go to work tonight."

Casey looked surprised. "Didn't you tell them that you have a family emergency?"

"They told me that one week was plenty of time to handle it. Also, it's the Kitchner Rangers and they need me to work the Jumbotron."

Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti nodded. "He's got a point," Edwin said. "It's a pretty big game."

"That's not the point!" Casey said.

"I think it is the point," I replied. "Listen, we can't just stay here moping."

"Who said anything about moping?" she said. "What we're doing is reasonable."

"For the first few days, maybe. But maybe we should celebrate that we're all here and go to the game."

"Can we?" Lizzie asked. Everyone turned to look at her. "What, it's been like seven years since we all went to a Knights game."

"I have five tickets. And five food vouchers. And five booth passes. We can all go as a family."

Nobody responded though. The room was silent, until Casey spoke up. "Maybe it'll be good to get out for the night. But, we're going in separate cars in case something happens or you need to stay late for work."

"Fine. You take your car and I'll take mine."

"No, you'll take the Prince and I'll take yours," Casey corrected.

"Why?"

"Your car has Simon's car seat and no one's going to steal your car or the Prince."

"Thanks. I think."

..::..

"This is so cool!" Simon yelled as he jumped onto my lap.

"Yeah?" I asked him. He was wearing an old style eggplant and green Knights jersey that Dad must've pulled out of the attic for him a long time ago. It was a Christmas gift from Dad, and it even had Venturi sown on the back with the number 13, my favorite growing up.

"Yeah!"

"Didn't Dad ever take you to the games before?"

"He did, but he never got me on TV!" It's true, I had sent some of the cameramen to that part of the stadium and switched the feed whenever they had Marti and Simon in the shot. I took some pictures with my camera of everyone waving on the big screen. It's what any big brother would do, right?

"What about the rest of you? Are you guys having fun?" I asked them. Lizzie and Edwin were wearing the newer style black jerseys, and Marti had on a Sam Ganger t-shirt from forever ago. Casey…well, she had the smarts to not wear anything red, white, and blue.

"It's awesome!" Lizzie said. "Free food and the Jumbotron. I could get used to this."

"Yeah, it's the life!" Edwin said. He tried to shove a beer in my hand, but I couldn't drink on the job.

"I had so much Cotton Candy!" Marti exclaimed.

"Good job Derek," Casey said. "This is really fun."

"So, I'm gonna have to stay for a while after the game so I can get good videos for the website, then I have to link to them on everything. So, I'll meet you back at the house."

"Okay," Simon said, getting off my lap. Edwin and Lizzie led him and Marti out and into the stands. Casey stayed behind for a few seconds.

"So, judging by Edwin I guess you're driving home," we both had a laugh but she put her hand on my shoulder.

"I know I don't say this often, but you were right. This was the best thing to do."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. Could you say that again?" I asked, while flipping a few switches on the control board.

"I said, you were right."

"I said, you were right," the Casey on the Jumbotron repeated for the whole stadium to hear.

"Der-ek!"

"I know. Now go enjoy the game!"

..::..

After the final post-game interview, I hopped in the Prince to head home. Edwin had left it on the sports talk station, so I attempted to switch it using the knob, before I remembered that I purposely broke it seven years ago to keep Casey from switching my presets. Sighing as I went through my presets, mostly stations that had either ceased to exist or changed formats, I couldn't believe how quickly my life had changed.

_ I owe my love of hockey to my dad. I remember my first day of hockey practice. At seven years-old, I was a pretty good skater, but holding the stick was a new challenge. God, I must've fallen a hundred times, but my dad was always there, sitting in the bleachers, smiling and waving. Every day we would get into the car and he would pat me on the back and tell me how proud he was of me._

_ After one bad game, I flipped out at him. "Shut up! I suck!" I yelled. "I should stop wasting everyone's time and just quit!"_

_ He pulled over, unbuckled his seatbelt and stared at me. We sat on the side of the road for at least twenty minutes, or what seemed like twenty minutes to me. Then he asked me, "How did it feel when I stopped driving?"_

_ I shrugged. "I dunno. Bad I guess. I'm hungry."_

_ He laughed as he put the car in gear. No, he put the Prince in gear. The very same car that he would later use to teach me how to drive. "Your teammates would feel the same way if you just didn't show up. There are always five other men on the ice, around fifteen on the bench, and hundreds in the stands. You can never let people down"_

_ I don't think I was ever half as good on my own as I was when he was cheering me on. I'm convinced the only reason we won any championships in high school was because Dad went to all of my playoff games. I may have only scored about twenty goals my entire collegiate career, but I scored a hat trick when we played Western Ontario University, with Dad in the stands. I'm sure he has the puck somewhere in the house._

_ I think the reason why I always played better when he was around was because I didn't want to let him down. I took his advice to heart. I always gave my hardest so I wouldn't let anyone on the ice down. Off the ice, I tried to be the best brother, step-brother, musician and person I could be. Ok, maybe sometimes I was the best jerk and slacker I could be, but I never let anyone down when I was doing it. So, thanks for that Dad._

_ When I was driving home that night, I began to realize that I stopped the station on a country song. Disgusted, I was ready to turn it off, but then I listened to the words._

_ Tim McGraw (I think, they all sound alike) sang about something really familiar. It wasn't merely about me or us. He sang straight to me, to Dad, to our blended family._

_ I knew that Dad had to hear that song. So when I got home, I pulled out his old acoustic guitar. And when I looked up the chords, I was surprised when I found that the last song Dad played used the same chords. I knew it was fate. So I worked up the courage to go in their hospital room and I played it for him before he died, but I'm not sure he heard it. So I thought about playing it here, for his eulogy so he could see it from heaven instead. I asked everyone else, and they agreed that Dad would want a little music for the occasion._

I strapped Dad's guitar around my neck, and everyone in the church was nodding along. They seemed to agree that this is what Dad would want. _Dad would always break out this guitar for special occasions: birthdays, graduations, trying-to-scare-away-new-boyfriends. So, without further ado, here's one song that I really wish he could've heard._

_I fell by the wayside_

_I fell on my knees_

_Crying, why was I so hard to please?_

_I stood at the crossroads_

_Took a long look at me_

_Sometimes you don't know where you're from 'till you leave_

_And I've been out there searching_

_For a place where I belong_

_And on my way I heard my song_

_Let it sing me home_

I strummed a few more chords, unsure of what people thought about my tribute. But sure enough, everyone in the crowd was dabbing at their eyes, wiping away their tears. All of my siblings in the front row were encouraging me to continue through their sullen expressions.

_The sun on my shoulders and the wind at my back_

_I'm bound and determined to get back on track_

_To where the heart is _

_Where it's been all along_

_Sometimes you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone_

_Long gone gone_

_And I've been out there searching_

_For a place where I belong_

_And on my way I heard my song_

_Let it sing me home_

There was a little applause as I finished. _My dad also taught me that when you find something good, you have to hold onto it. I didn't realize how much I missed being part of a family until he found Nora; I'm sure he felt the same way. He never let any of us down. He was the best Dad to all of his children. And I promise Dad,_ _we won't forget what you gave us. We are your legacy. And I know you found your way home._

I sat down as people applauded my speech. I sat down next to Casey, who gave an equally passionate eulogy for Nora. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I'm glad you faced reality."

"Me too. Thanks for inspiring me sis. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Anytime bro."

..::..

After shaking the hands of the hundreds of people who came from all over London and Toronto to come to the funeral, one of Dad's coworkers escorted Casey, Lizzie, Edwin, Marti and I to a little room in the funeral parlor to read the will.

"I'm sorry to do this now, but we all know that there are special considerations because of the guardianships. I hate having to do this, especially since I've seen you guys grow up at the office and Christmas parties.

"Anyway, your parents both had life insurance policies. Your mother's was for one million dollars and your father's was for two million."

"Wow!" Edwin exclaimed.

"The insurance company representing the man who hit your parents has agreed to settle and match that amount. So, your parents estate, after applicable taxes, is worth just over six million dollars."

"How is that going to be split?" Casey asked.

"Your parents have requested that their estate be split into three equal parts. The first is to be applied to all current student loans in all of your names…"

"YES!" I cried out. Everyone turned to glare at me. "Sorry, it's a lot of debt."

"Anyway, if there's any money left over after that, it's to be distributed equally into the other two accounts. The first is a college savings account in Marti and Simon's names. The second is a daily expense count for Edwin, Lizzie, Marti and Simon, to be used until they are each done with higher education. Both of these accounts are to be managed by Casey."

Everyone nodded in sullen agreement. It was the obvious choice.

"Now, at this point your parents asked that I distribute letters to each of you. Your parents updated their wills every few years, so they are pretty current. There's one for each of you, but they instructed that you not open them until later." With that, he reached into his briefcase and gave everyone a small envelope. Except for Casey, who got a large manila envelope.

"Ok, next to distribute their assets. Your father would like to give his old car to Derek. Also, they requested that their other cars be given to Lizzie and Edwin. However, one was totaled, in this situation they designated that the remaining car should go to whoever is going to college further away, which is Lizzie, correct?" She nodded with tears in her eyes. "The house is going to Derek as well."

Everyone nodded again. That was slightly a surprise, but it made sense to tie us together: Casey with the money, me with the house.

"Alright, and the last order of major business then is the guardianship of the three minors, Lizzie MacDonald, Marti Venturi, and Simon MacDonald-Venturi."

"Wait, what?" Lizzie stammered. "I'm 17. I turn 18 in a month. I don't need a guardian."

"According to the law you do. You could emancipate, but the process would take longer than a month. Besides, it's in title only." She seemed to accept that and nodded along. "As Abby Venturi is currently living in Europe, she and George agreed that she forfeit custody of Marti. So, custody of all three children shall go to Derek Venturi."

"Me?"

"Derek?" Everyone turned to look at me. Casey seemed mad even.

..::..

Yeah, time compression is real. The worst three weeks of my life flew by in an instant. And I went from eligible bachelor to father of three in a matter of moments. Actual moments. Life is funny that way.

* * *

Thanks for reading and reviewing this chapter and the first. I hope it became clear that Derek was giving his father's eulogy and not just reminiscing about the past.

Thank you especially to kmr04, pheonix9648, and i hate school 123 for reviewing. In regard to one question, specifically about whether this story is a romance specifically geared towards one pairing. This is not meant to be a romance, at least not yet. It is about their family moving forward in the face of tragedy.

So thanks again. Please review.


	3. I Saw It

Chapter 3: I Saw It

* * *

_Dear Derek,_

_ Honestly, I had hoped that you would never need to read this. I thought that by writing it, you would never need to see it. I guess my logic was just a little flawed._

_I'm not sure what you want to hear first: how proud I am of you or how much I trust you. I guess I'll start out with the pride._

_ When you announced that you wanted to go to college, I nearly popped a bottle of champagne right then. Let alone that you were going to a school like Queen's. But once you got there, you really kicked ass. You applied yourself in hockey and school, although I have a feeling that a certain ankle injury might have helped you with both. I'll never forget the day you scored a hat trick against Western. Not because of your accomplishment, but because afterwards when we went out to celebrate you told me that you made Dean's List that semester._

_ I still can't believe you graduated as highly as you did. It somewhat shocked me, but I always knew you could do it. I wish I could have had your B.A. in Film and Media next to the picture of us from the day we graduated. Hell, I'm more proud of that than I am my own diploma._

_..::.._

"How did you manage to collect so much crap?" Lizzie threw another box full of my most treasured possessions onto a handcart to bring downstairs. Unfortunately, she was the only one left in town to help me pack up my loft and bring it back to the house.

"Years and years of practice," I replied as I loaded all of my hockey equipment in a bag.

"Why do I have to help you if you're the one with all the practice?" she grabbed another box and continued to load the handcart.

"Well, you're taking the semester off and it was either give you free pizza and beer or hire someone else." Lizzie had been told by her advisor to take the rest of the semester off, since she had already missed three weeks of her first semester away from home and catching up would be too stressful. Edwin and Casey had simply dropped a class each so they could catch up on their other classes and had left a few days after the funeral.

"It's not like it was my choice," she mumbled as she took the handcart down to the elevator. She was depressed like everyone else, but she was feeling mostly useless. She wasn't old enough to be her younger siblings' guardian, was too young to be legally independent and she wasn't mature enough to go back to college to finish the semester.

But the worst part? I had no I idea how to help her through it. She was my guardee and I had nothing to say.

She ran back into the room. "Okay, when do I get that pizza? We've been packing boxes for three hours."

I dropped the box of clothes I was holding right there on the floor. "I'll call it in right now." I dialed the number of the pizza place as I grabbed two Molsons from the fridge and gave one to her. She raised her eyebrow skeptically, knowing that her eighteenth birthday was still a few weeks away, but eventually opened the bottle on my counter. It was my turn to give her a skeptical look but she only shrugged.

"So, what's bothering you?" I asked when I sat down at the table. Perhaps the alcohol would help.

"Nothing," she responded simply.

"Liar," I muttered.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too times infinity!" Some guardian I was. First time I try to have a heart-to-heart conversation with one of my charges and instead we get into a juvenile shouting match. We both took a look at each other in awkward silence and took a long chug.

"I still don't think you're telling the truth," I said after we both put our beers back on the table.

"Well, maybe, but we don't have to talk about it. You're only my guardian for another three weeks. Don't sweat it." Maybe I was going soft, but that certainly sounded like a cry for help. God, I wasn't going soft, I was turning into Casey. Disgusted, I took another chug of my beer.

"Yeah, well I want to talk about it. So spill." Alright, so maybe I lacked something my parents had. Maybe it was speaking skills. Maybe it was age. I'm going to go with…tact. I lacked tact.

But Lizzie didn't seem to notice. "Hey Mr. Big Shot Parent, just drink your beer. We don't need to talk. Really, I'm fine." We sat in silence again, just sipping.

The doorbell rang, so I got up and paid for the pizza. I went back to the table and proudly announced to her, "This is my last meal as an independent adult. So, this is your last beer because I'm not going to be able to drive by the end of this meal."

Lizzie smirked as I got another beer. "A toast. To independence. May you never give it up."

"Cheers," she said glumly as he clicked bottles. We each picked up a piece and began to eat, but she threw the piece down on a paper plate.

"Is something wrong with the pizza? I swear, it usually tastes better."

"Why do you have to say it like that?"

"Say what like what? Their pizza usually tastes better than this. I can order us another one if you want."

"To independence," she mocked me in a deep voice. "You're still independent. You're still an adult. You're just taking care of three kids."

"Two kids and a pretty cool teenager," I corrected. She glared at me and I slunk down in my seat a little.

Note to self: don't use humor to console Lizzie.

"Is that all this is to you? A big joke? You have no idea what you're doing." She ate a few pieces in silence before she went back to throwing my things in boxes and taking them downstairs.

..::..

_ Anyway, I guess this is the part where I have to tell you why you were chosen guardian of Marti and Simon. And the simple answer is because I trust you. You may not think that you're qualified to be their guardian, but you are._

_ You may not be the world's most responsible human being, but I'm sure you were the first one to the house to check on the kids. You may not be the most serious parent, but that's not what they need. They need fun in their lives again. I bet you were the only one who cracked a joke when we were in the hospital. Someone who can crack a joke is more important than someone who would crack the whip. These kids need you._

_ Don't let the logistics wear you down. Move into my room. Give up your apartment and keep your money stowed away. Stay in the house as long as it's feasible. I loved that you decided to stay in London and work for the Knights, but we both know you can do more. You could work in the NHL or even direct movies like you did in college. Don't turn down any opportunities that excite you. Just don't sell the house until everyone is ready._

_..::.._

I turned out the lights to my loft. My first bachelor pad. I became a man in these four walls. I paid my rent by myself here. I got my first job from here. I got published for the first time using an article I wrote from here. And I found out that my parents were dying here.

Yes, I did become a man here.

I locked the door, left the key under the mat, and walked down the steps to the car. We had decided against renting a truck, so we just shoved everything into the SUV that now belonged to Lizzie.

"Alright Lizzie," I said, knocking on the window of the driver's seat. "Get in the front seat."

"No. You told me to drive!"

"But I'm not actually drunk."

"Convenient. I don't actually care." Sighing, I got into the front seat. We pulled out into traffic and I turned off the radio.

"Alright, you can't walk away from me this time. What's up?"

"Nothing. I told you already."

"Convenient. I already don't believe you." She groaned at my turn of her phrase, but didn't answer. "Okay, then I'll guess. It's your time of the month."

"Shut up Derek."

"Strike one. So, I think…you don't want to go back to McGill."

"Shut up Derek."

"Strike two. Hmm, so I'm down to my last guess?"

"It's your stupid game."

"Alright, well I'm going to guess that you're pissed I'm Marti and Simon's guardian."

"Shut up Derek!" She slammed on the brake and I felt strangled by my seatbelt.

"Oh, big hit for Derek." I motioned for her to pull over and we sat in a parking lot.

"Yeah, well maybe I am a little upset."

"Why?"

"Well, somehow Mom and Dad think that you're more responsible than Casey and me."

"And Ed," I muttered. "Wait a second, when did you stop calling him George and began calling him Dad?"

"I don't know, maybe a few years ago. When you weren't around."

"So, it's my fault that I went to college? Aren't you doing the same thing?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "I want to transfer to Western."

"No, you don't."

"Don't tell me what I want to do."

"I think I'm qualified. Last year you yourself told me that you didn't want to go there because they didn't have the same kind of engineering program that they have at McGill."

"Maybe. But it's…"

"Different now," I cut her off. "I know, don't act surprised. I'm actually tuned into your emotions. Who knew? Maybe I am responsible and capable of raising my younger siblings."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it? Why are you upset?"

"Derek, I love you. But I don't think you're…" her voice trailed off.

"I'm not." She turned and stared at me as though I had grown an extra head. "I'm not the disciplinarian. I'm the one that can listen and get people to open up." She nodded absent-mindedly. "I'm the one that knows when it's time for work and when it's time to drop everything to go to a Knights game. I know I'm not Dad, and I'm not Nora, and I'm not you or Casey either."

"You're Derek," she said softly, finishing my rant. "You're the perfect guardian. The kind that any kid would want."

"Yeah, and you're Lizzie. I'm happy to be tied down to them but you're not done being a kid. Take it from your guardian. You're the loving older sister that Marti and Simon can call day or night. You're the one that would drop everything and drive the 15 hours home if they asked you. They need you just as much as they need me, just in a different way."

We turned and looked at each other for a good long moment. When I saw how red her face was, I decided to break the silence. "I'm also the one who knows when it's time for a hug." She wiped a tear out of her eye and leaned forward to hug me.

"Thanks Derek. I'm sorry I was upset."

"You had every right to be. Now let's get home and unpack before Simon gets home and breaks all my cool stuff." She giggled and pulled out of the spot.

..::..

_ Now, don't let all of this go to your head. You are the right person, but you can't do it alone. Casey has the money, but she is also your partner. She will always help you. And Lizzie and Edwin are two of the smartest young people that I know. It takes a village to raise a child, but it takes a SWAT team to raise a Venturi._

_ Finally, you may be looking for parenting advice, and I'll give you my one nugget of wisdom: be yourself. It worked for me, and I'm sure it'll work for you. Parenthood is a roller coaster ride that's breaking as you're riding it, and you won't always have all the tools to maintain it. But you will always have the heart to be there at the end._

_ I love you son. I trust that you'll raise our kids to be the best people they can be. I will always believe in you._

_Love, Dad_

_..::.._

After we unloaded the last box of my crap in the garage and moved all of my necessities into my new bedroom at the house, Lizzie and I sat down in the living room. "Do you still think you're going to transfer to Western?"

"Nope. You're right, I can still be the supportive big sister from _Montréal_," she said with a little French flair. "Besides, I would have to give the car to Edwin if I moved any closer than Queen's."

We laughed a little as we waited for the school bus to drop off Marti and Simon. "I'm glad you decided to stay at McGill. College is the best years of your life. You don't want to spend them with me."

She laughed again. "I guess you're right. You would ruin everything."

We turned on the TV and watched a little bit of SportsCenter. Eventually, I lowered the volume a little bit. Lizzie turned to look at me. "Lizzie, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Do you believe me?"

"Huh?" she sat up straight and glared at me curiously.

"I mean, when I say that I can do this whole guardian thing, do you think I can?"

As if on cue, Marti and Simon ran through the front door. "Smerek!" Marti yelled as she jumped on my lap. Why couldn't she be like Simon and just sit down on the couch next to Lizzie? "You'll never guess what I did at school today!"

"You read a book?" I suggested.

"Yeah, but that's not it."

"You did math?" I joked.

"NO!" she said in as silly of a tone as she could.

"You didn't do math? What kind of crazy school are you going to?"

She laughed as hard as she could. "No, we did math. I wanted you to guess that I painted you something in art." She reached into her backpack and pulled out a pretty good painting of a hockey puck flying into a goal. "I made it just for you!"

"Smarti, it's beautiful. Go put it on the fridge and I'll get it framed so I can hang it in my room." She nodded and ran into the kitchen.

Lizzie looked up at me. "Derek, I believe in you more than you'll ever know."

..::..

_PS) Derek, you may not have always thought of me as your mom, but you were always my son. I love you so much, and I'm so proud of you. You are a great kid and I believe that our kids are in the best hands. Love your second-mom, Nora._

* * *

I'm sorry this chapter is a little short, but I think this story needed a little transition. Hopefully you found this chapter a little funnier, as the story is going to begin to focus more on the trials and tribulations of parenting instead of the sadness of loss.

Thank you all so much for the positive reviews. I have been so happy to see your response! Please keep it coming—it really inspires me to write when people love my work!


	4. Elf's Lament

Wow, I was truly flattered by the reviews I received for the last chapter! I really love hearing from you all, and I hope you'll continue to give me your feedback. I will answer a few important questions at the end of this chapter, though one won't really need answering after you read this chapter.

Also, I wasn't planning on writing a Christmas chapter. I didn't want to because the holidays are a sad time after losing a loved one, but at the same time I can't just skip past it. However, I think I came up with a solution to make it enjoyable, humorous, and not sad.

**Chapter 4: Elf's Lament**

* * *

Just like everyone else on the planet, my favorite holiday has always been the holiday formerly known as Derekus (I was told to stop calling it Derekus after my teammates in college found it, and I quote, "Douchey"). But seriously, come on: presents, big dinner, no school or work. I came to appreciate the holiday more as I got older, but really only after I went away to college and it was the only time all of our family was under one roof.

However, some people warned me that, after your parents die, the holidays are never the same. The holidays are a sad time, all you think about are the ones you've lost, blah blah blah.

Those people are full of crap. None of us were sad. In fact, everyone was angry.

It all started about two weeks before Christmas. Lizzie and I decided to take Simon to meet Santa at the mall so A) he could tell Santa what he wanted and B) Lizzie could sneak off while we were in line to buy some of the presents.

While we were in line, I decided to prep Simon, because I was afraid that he might ask Santa to do the impossible. "Simon, what are you going to ask Santa for?"

He looked up at me with those big brown eyes and looked genuinely confused. "Huh?"

"What are you going to ask Santa for?"

He furrowed his brow slightly. "I can't tell you!"

"Why not?"

"I have to tell Santa. That's the rule! You tell Santa and he gives you what you want for Christmas."

"It's not like blowing out the candles on your birthday cake," I said, kneeling down to meet his gaze.

"Oh."

"What are you going to ask for?"

"Mom and Dad," his voice rang out, filled to the brim with hope for a Christmas with all his siblings and parents. I could tell someone in front of us heard his request and turned around slightly to give me a pitying look. It was not appreciated.

"Buddy, Santa can't do that."

"Why not?"

I had to rub my head with my hands. He wasn't upset yet, just genuinely confused. For the umpteenth time, I was going to crush his hopes. There was no way this was going to end without dragging a screaming five year-old out of the mall.

"Why not?" he asked again.

"Buddy, the elves can only make toys," I began.

"That's not true!" he shouted. "Last year Marti got a cell phone from Santa!"

"But the elves made it. Santa can only bring you things that the elves can make."

He continued to stare at me, trying to think of some sort of loophole he could use to make Santa bring his parents back for the holidays. But instead, he just decided to nod. "I guess I could get some new video games."

As I patted him on the shoulder for coming to that conclusion, one of the elves whisked him away and set him on Santa's lap.

"Ho ho ho! What do you want for Christmas little boy?"

Simon looked up at him and responded to this question with one of his own. "Do I have to want something that the elves can make?"

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on edge. Please, for the love of god, please say something, anything other than, "Well, I suppose not."

"Well, then I want my parents to come home for Christmas," Simon said innocently.

Shit.

"Well…I uh…" Santa was stammering, but he looked to me. I shook my head no, and he continued, "I don't think I can uh…do that."

"Did my brother tell you to say that?" Simon asked. Instead of looking at Santa, he was staring straight into my eyes. It was slightly unnerving.

"No," Santa responded curtly. Clearly he would rather have a kid pee on his lap than deal with an orphan. He pointed to the elf holding a camera and minutes later I was given a picture of my younger brother punching Santa in the pillow.

..::..

"How was Santa?" Marti asked when Lizzie, Simon and I got home. His response was screaming all the way up to his room and slamming the door shut behind him. "What happened?"

"He asked for his parents from Santa, even though I told him not to, and Santa said no."

Lizzie put a few bags on the floor next to the stool where Marti was sitting. "Actually, Derek said no and Simon caught him telling Santa. So now he thinks Derek wants to ruin Christmas."

"Oh," Marti said absentmindedly. She was staring at the bags, trying to discern what Lizzie could have gotten based upon their indiscrete appearance.

Picking up the bags, Lizzie walked out of the room. "I'm going to go hide these."

"You know, you could just ask what Santa got you," I teased.

"What did Santa get me?" Marti asked immediately.

"You'll have to ask him," I responded with a smirk.

Marti laughed at my joke, until she stopped and put on a devilish grin. "I could, but I wouldn't know where to find him. Maybe I'll talk to Simon about Santa instead." Uh-oh.

Let's backtrack for a minute. Five years ago, Marti still believed in Santa, and all of us older kids were committed to making her believe it for as long as we possibly could. Except, Edwin accidently found Dad and Nora's gift hiding spot when he was with Marti trying to find a shoe. She saw that all the gifts from Santa were actually purchased, wrapped and hidden weeks beforehand and freaked out. She smashed some of the presents labeled "From Santa," including my new phone, and refused to speak to all of us for at least a few days, which was a pretty long time for Marti. She just couldn't believe that we lied to her.

Moral of the story: Don't let your younger siblings find out about Santa at home. It's much easier to let some stupid kid on the playground tell them. Then they'll hate that kid instead of you, and hopefully they'll pummel that kid instead of your gifts.

And now Marti was threatening me. Simon punched a Santa just an hour ago over less. Imagine what he would do if Marti told him the truth.

"No, you won't," I warned her.

She sat down again with a sly grin. "What's in it for me?"

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Depends. If I say I want Santa to bring me an iPhone, is that blackmail?"

"Yeah, it is blackmail. Especially when you already have a cell phone."

Marti smiled again and reached for a slip of paper that was on the counter. She scribbled furiously and then folded the slip. "This is my final offer," she said as she slipped it to me.

I unfolded the slip to see what she had written. "'An iPod and a kiss from a Knight.' This is your offer?"

"Yep."

"What if I balk?" I asked her. I seriously wondered if she had the guts to go through with this, especially since she remembered what it felt like when…

"SIMON!" Marti yelled.

"Okay, okay!" I said quickly.

"So you'll meet my demands?" she asked.

"We'll see."

"SIMON!"

I slammed my fists down on the kitchen counter, partly to muffle my sister but mostly out of frustration. "Okay! I'll see what I can do," I spat out through my gritted teeth.

She stood up from her stool. "If you don't deliver by midnight on Christmas Eve, I will."

So Simon was pissed at me and my sister was trying to blackmail me so Simon wouldn't get more pissed. All the makings of a classic Christmas, right?

..::..

"Mantha, just listen to me!" Edwin screamed into his cell phone as he ran in the house. "I'm telling you that you can come over here for Christmas!"

Casey wasn't too far behind him, carrying what seemed to be both of their luggage. "It's been three hours of this."

"Mantha, I swear, it won't be awkward!"

"Edwin, get off the phone and help unload the car!" Casey yelled.

"One minute! No, not you!"

Casey turned to Lizzie and me. "Will you help? It'll be a lot quicker than waiting for Romeo over there."

"So, who's she?" I asked as we walked out to Casey's car. They were only coming home for the two weeks and leaving January 2nd, but judging by the amount of junk in Casey's car you'd think they were staying until Easter.

"Some girl he's been seeing for a few months," Casey responded.

"Have you met her?" Lizzie asked.

"Yeah, I met her a few weeks before Mom and George died. She promised she'd come home to meet the rest of our family before then, but she feels awkward coming now."

We both nodded and dragged the rest of Edwin and Casey's stuff in the house. Then we sat down in the living room to watch TV and listen to the rest of Edwin's fight.

"Mantha, just come down here! You're only an hour away!"

"So, do you like her?" Lizzie asked Casey.

She nodded. "She seems nice enough. Not like Nina." Lizzie groaned at the mention of Nina, Edwin's crazy girlfriend from high school. We had all been relieved when he broke up with her, but not so relieved when she showed up days later with a lighter, threatening to burn down the entire house. I always thought that Lizzie had been more relieved than anyone else. Maybe it was because she went to school with them and had to deal with it more often, as she claimed, but I always suspected that she had ulterior motives.

"Mantha, it seriously won't be awkward! They're going to love you! Casey did like you afterall!"

"God, was it seriously four hours of his?" Lizzie asked.

"Yeah. Mantha this, Mantha no, Mantha they'll love you." Casey finished by knotting an imaginary noose and pretending to hang herself.

Lizzie stormed off and grabbed Edwin's cell phone. "Hi Samantha, this is Lizzie. Edwin got home and we really don't care if you come or don't come. Just stop arguing. Thanks bye." She ended the call and handed the phone to Edwin.

"What did you do that for?" Edwin shouted.

"Listen, you're driving us all crazy."

"Well, that was still unnecessary! You could've been nicer!"

"I was nice! Besides, she probably doesn't want to come because she feels bad breaking up with you after your parents died."

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Real mature Edwin! She's not ri…"

"Both of you shut up!" Simon yelled from the top of the stairs. "Some of us are trying to do homework! It's hard doing subtraction!"

Edwin and Lizzie both glared at each other. They realized their immaturity, but instead of facing it or apologizing they just ran into their rooms and slammed the door.

"What's up with them?" I asked Casey.

She shrugged. "I don't know. They've got a complicated relationship."

I nodded. They spent half their lives spying on us with each other and the other half in pointless arguments. This incident obviously fit into the latter. "At least we learned to be civil."

"Yeah," Casey whispered, almost inaudibly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Huh?"

"'Yeah,'" I repeated in a similarly wispy tone.

"Nothing Derek."

"It's never nothing when it comes to you."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing Casey."

"Oh, I suppose it's never nothing when it comes to me."

We sat in silence watching some stupid TV show neither of us wanted to watch. Casey eventually responded to my initial question though. "I'm still upset."

"About Dad and Nora? You're not alone."

"Well, yeah that too," she said cryptically. She noticed my confused look and pretended to yawn. "I think I'm going to take a nap. Long drive you know."

I nodded and pretended not to take notice of her comment, as though I didn't understand what she meant.

..::..

A few days later, a package addressed to Derek, Edwin, and Martina Venturi arrived from Mrs. Abigail Venturi-Cruz in Barcelona, Spain. After I signed for the package, I called Edwin and Marti down to open our Christmas presents from Mom.

"What do you think she got us this year?" Edwin asked sarcastically. It's true, the contents of the package didn't change much from year to year. Mom hadn't visited us often since she moved to Spain during my senior year of high school. In fact, I don't think any of us had seen her since I graduated from college. She met her new husband, Fernando Cruz, and started a family there. She really didn't have much time to keep in touch with a family separated by 6 hours time difference and thousands of miles other than the occasional Facebook message, though she faithfully sent birthday cards and holiday gifts.

"Probably the usual," I responded. Edwin and I didn't begrudge her. She had a right to be happy, just like we did. Besides, it's not like we saw her much in the time between her marriages.

"Whatever, let's get it over with," Marti mumbled as she cut the tape with a pair of scissors. Marti, on the other hand, was not as indifferent about Mom's move.

"Here's an envelope for Derek," Edwin said as he handed me my gift. "An envelope for me, and two presents for Marti."

Marti stared at the packages in front of her. Last year, she had only gotten a teddy bear for her collection. She eyed these wrapped presents curiously, not sure whether to be happy or concerned that her mom decided to put in extra effort.

"There's a card," I said as I ripped it off the first package. Marti opened it carefully and began to read. I opened my envelope and read the short note: _"Derek, thanks for being such a responsible young man. I can't believe my little boy grew up so fast. This gift isn't enough to show you how much I love you and appreciate what you're doing, but maybe it's enough for the three of you to come visit this summer. Love, Mom." _Behind the note was five hundred Euros, significantly more than last year. I guess she was serious about wanting us to visit.

Edwin had a handful of money in his hands too, though clearly less. "The usual?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded curtly, shoving the envelope into my pocket. I decided not to tell him about her suggestion, since it probably wouldn't be in the cards for a while. "What did you get Smarti?"

She held up the contents of the two packages. The smaller one was a copy of _Toy Story 3_ and the larger gift was the purple teddy bear featured on the cover of the movie.

"Wow, that was really nice of her," I said encouragingly. She turned around and glared at me angrily. "Was it something I said?"

She thrust the bear and DVD into my chest. "I think Santa meant to give these to Simon." Then she ran upstairs and slammed her door shut behind her.

"What happened?" Edwin asked.

"I don't know," I began, until I noticed the ripped card on the ground. I picked it up and put the two pieces together. It was Mom's Christmas card, a picture of her and her new husband on the beach with their kids, twin girls about the same age as Simon. Below their smiling faces was some handwritten text. _"Marti, these reminded me of you. You'll always be my little M. Love Mom."_

Groaning, I ran up behind her and knocked on her door gently. "Smarti? I think we need to talk."

"Go away!"

"Let's talk about this first."

"Go away!"

"Come on Marti, you've got to talk to someone."

"GO AWAY!"

I leaned my back against the door and slid down until I was sitting. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine, neither am I!"

A few minutes passed before Lizzie walked up the stairs. "What's going on? I heard the shouting from outside."

"Nothing, Marti's just upset about our annual Christmas gifts from Mom." I handed her the torn up card.

She scanned it before knocking on Marti's door. "Marti, if you won't talk to Derek, will you talk to me?"

There was no response, so Lizzie opened the door. Not expecting the sudden change, I fell into Marti's room.

"What are you doing," I hissed.

"Handling this," she whispered.

I nodded and shut the door behind me. I sat back down so I could listen in.

"So, wanna tell me what happened?" Lizzie asked.

"No."

"Well, it seems like your mom sent you a cool gift."

"Yeah."

"Did you like them?"

"Kinda."

"Well, why are you upset?"

"It's nothing."

"It's obviously not." There was a long pause. "Did it have anything to do with this?"

I think that Marti was looking at the Christmas card again. "It doesn't."

"Marti, I thought you were done with this whole I'm-not-the-baby complex."

"I am."

"Then why are you upset?"

"'These reminded me of you,'" Marti mocked. "The only reason they remind her of me is because she still thinks of me as a six year-old."

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is!"

There was another long pause. He heard some slight shuffling. "This is the Christmas card I got from my dad."

"'Hey kiddo,'" Marti read aloud. "'Merry Christmas. Love Dad.' Not very personal."

"Yeah. It's the first Christmas card I've gotten from him in a few years. He probably forgot I existed until he got a call from the lawyers saying that Derek had custody of me unless he contested."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, it kinda does. But I'm not mad."

"You're not? All he did was send you an impersonal Christmas card. That's not very fatherly."

"Dennis isn't the fatherly type. Not like George."

Another awkward pause, as though they were acknowledging the ghost in the room. "He was great," Marti replied simply.

"Yeah. I started calling him Dad around the same time my dad stopped calling me Lizard and stuff." Through a lag in the conversation I could hear Marti's soft sobs. "I didn't mean to make you sad. I just meant to say that your mom and my dad are different. Your mom loves you and…"

"She took me to see _Toy Story 2_."

"Huh?" Lizzie seemed genuinely confused by the announcement.

"She took me to see _Toy Story 2_ by myself. Just me and her. Then we went out to dinner and she told me that I wasn't going to live with her anymore, but she still loved me. Then she gave me a teddy bear and said I would always be her little Em."

"So you're mad because she remembered taking you to see that movie?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because she can't think of anything new to say. She's still saying the same things she said when I was four because that was the last time she really meant it."

"She still loves you."

"She has a funny way of showing it. I can't even remember the last time I saw her in person, let alone spoke to her on the phone. She doesn't love me anymore."

"I don't think so," Lizzie said. There was some shifting and nose blowing, but eventually the doorknob started turning. I sprang up and pretended to look nonchalant as Lizzie exited the room.

"Good job," I said.

"Not really. She's still upset," Lizzie shrugged. I reached forward and gave her a hug. "What was that for?"

"I think you needed it as much as she did," I walked into the master bedroom, but before shutting the door I turned around to face her. "Not a word of this to anyone." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her pretend to zip her lips.

..::..

So, practically everyone was mad at someone else by the time Christmas Eve rolled around. While Casey and I cooked all day to get dinner ready, I snuck out a few times to make some important phone calls. Casey didn't seem to notice, but she did mention it during dessert.

"Say Derek, who were you talking to on the phone today?"

I attempted to shrug it off. "Oh, just this guy about this thing."

"Care to be more specific?" she asked.

"I uh…" Mercifully, I was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. "Who could that be?" I got up and exaggeratedly walked to the door. When I opened it, there was an eighteen year old dressed as a Santa, just as I had anticipated. "Santa! Come in!"

Everyone turned to look at the door with surprised expressions. Especially Simon, who was practically jumping up and down in his chair. "Santa! Is it really you?"

"Ho Ho Ho!" he said. "Merry Christmas!"

"What brings you here Santa?" Casey asked bemusedly.

"I heard that a little boy had a very big request."

"I did," Simon said quietly. "I asked for my mommy and daddy."

The Santa kneeled down next to Simon. "I'm sorry but I can't do that."

"Why not?"

Santa and I inhaled deeply at the same time, and I prayed that he remembered the lines that I had fed him. "I can't because if I were to give you back your parents, then I'd have to give everyone back their parents, and then there would be no one in heaven." Without realizing it, I mouthed all the words in time with Santa, causing Casey and Lizzie to smile in my direction.

"Okay," Simon sighed.

"That doesn't mean you don't get a present," Santa said, giving him a gift from the red sack.

Simon looked up at me and I nodded, so he ripped open the wrapping on the present. "Cool!" he exclaimed, thrusting a video game in my face.

Santa then walked over to Marti. "I have something for you too."

"For me?" she remarked skeptically.

He laughed and reached into his bag. He pulled out a giant Hershey kiss. Attached to it was a signed hockey card that Marti read aloud. "'To Marti. Love Reid Brown.' A kiss from a Knight. Clever."

Laughing, he bent down and gave Marti a kiss on the cheek. "I thought so," he said.

"Let me show you out, Santa," Lizzie offered. Santa nodded and she led him out the back door.

"Merry Christmas!" he called out as he left.

"Alright Simon, go get ready for bed," I said. He grumbled, but ran upstairs to get changed. I grabbed some plates and went into the kitchen to clean them.

I looked out through the window over the sink to see Lizzie talking to the Santa. "So you're a hockey player?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm Reid. I play forward for the Knights."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I'll show you forward," she said as she leaned in to kiss him.

They made out for a few minutes. "Wow," was all he could say.

Lizzie pulled out a marker from her pocket and wrote something on his hand. "My name's Lizzie. Give me a call sometime." She turned and walked in the house, leaving the young hockey player dumbfounded.

"Nice going, Liz!" I said with a high-five.

"What'd she do?" Edwin asked.

"Nothing," Lizzie said.

"Nothing? She just left a hockey player speechless."

Marti nearly spat out her drink. "That was a hockey player? So I did get a kiss from a hockey player!"

"You're not the only one," Lizzie mumbled.

"Go Lizzie," Casey said.

"Yeah, go Lizzie," Marti mumbled sarcastically.

The table broke out into laughter, but it was interrupted by the phone. "I'll get it!" Marti shouted, trying to avoid the embarrassment of her confusion over Santa's identity. "Hello?"

There was a slight pause. "Yes, this is she."

Another pause. "Hi Mom! Yeah, Merry Christmas!"

Everyone turned from Marti to look at me. "What?"

"Did you get Mom to call her?" Edwin asked.

"No," I said, "and even if I did, you can't tell her."

"Yeah mom, I did get your present, thanks. Yeah, I really love it."

"Why not?" Casey asked.

"Because, she needs to think that her mom loves her," Lizzie responded for me.

"Really? You think I could? I'd love to visit! Yeah, I'll email you soon. Love you too. Okay, bye." She returned from the table with a huge grin on her face. And I have to say, it was contagious.

"So how's mom?" I asked.

"Good," Marti said. "She wants me to come visit this summer. Can I?"

"I think we can work out something," I said.

"Thank you, Smerek." She walked over and gave me a big hug. "I think I'm going to go to bed now. Wait for Santa and all."

"I thought you were going to tell Simon about Santa if you didn't get your iPod by midnight?"

"I changed my mind," she reassured, climbing up the steps.

"My turn!" Edwin exclaimed suddenly. The rest of us still at the table turned to look at him. "What, you got a Santa for Simon, a hockey player for Lizzie, and Mom for Marti. My turn."

I slapped him on the back. "Ed, you're an adult. Call your own girlfriend."

He sighed and pulled out his phone and excused himself from the table. Between our small talk about Lizzie returning to Montreal in two weeks, we could make out bits and pieces of his conversation with his girlfriend. "Hey Sam, it's me…Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too…Listen, I'm sorry I was a jerk, you shouldn't have to spend Christmas with us…No, you were right, it could have been uncomfortable…you want to come then? Yeah, I'd like that…alright, I'll see you next week! Great, love you too, bye!"

He returned to the table in good spirits. "She says she wants to come over for New Year's Eve."

"Can't wait," I said enthusiastically.

"That's great," Lizzie mumbled.

"I'd say this has been the most successful Christmas Eve of all time!" I said, raising my glass of wine.

Lizzie, Edwin, and Casey followed suit. "Cheers!" they said in unison.

..::..

"What are you doing up so late?" Casey asked me. I looked back to see that she had snuck up behind me as I was looking out at the snow accumulating on the lawn.

"It's not that late," I defended.

"It's one in the morning. And you know Simon is going to wake you up at six."

"Yeah, I guess I just couldn't go to sleep. I'm glad that everything worked out so well."

"I didn't know that you were so good at this whole parenting thing. God, everyone got what they wanted on Christmas Eve. Those gifts," Casey motioned to the mound of presents under the tree, "won't even compare to what you got them already."

"Do you want to know a secret?" I asked her. She nodded hesitantly. "I'm making it all up as I go along."

"Don't all parents?"

"I wouldn't know. I guess that's why kids don't remember anything until they're three."

"What?"

"All of a parent's best mistakes are made in the first three years. Before their kids can remember."

Casey laughed at my joke. "I was still upset that you got custody."

"Oh, so that's what you meant!" She raised an eyebrow, so I subdued my tone considerably. "I mean, I guess that makes sense."

"I couldn't understand why it wasn't me."

"I couldn't understand either." Casey stared blankly, unnerved by the comment, as though she had thought Dad and Nora personally sat me down and explained why I got custody before the accident. "I thought for sure you would have gotten custody."

"Really? I wasn't expecting it." Now it was my turn to stare blankly. "I'm a second year law school student. I spend all of my time in the library writing thirty page papers or studying. I'm being worked to death. Not exactly a supportive environment for children."

"But I would have expected you. You're the responsible one."

"You're responsible," she began, but she was interrupted by my laughter. "What? I can't say you're responsible?"

"You can, but that doesn't make it true."

"But it is. I mean, you graduated from high school and college. Then you moved out and got a job. I still haven't even moved out of the house yet."

"And now I'm back."

"Now I think I understand though. You put in the effort. You were an excellent choice."

"Thanks Casey. That means a lot." We continued to watch the snow fall all night.

..::..

There were many reasons to remember that Christmas: the first Christmas without Dad and Nora, the last Christmas without anyone bringing a date (well, sort of), the first Christmas Day where all six of us didn't argue. I may not remember what any of my gifts were that year, or what was under the tree for everyone else to open. But I will always remember what a happy an occasion it was. Sure, we all could tell that something, someone was missing, but we didn't let it bother us. That year, Christmas was as close to perfect as it can get.

* * *

I hope you all enjoyed that extra long chapter (it was more than twice as long as the previous chapter)!

I want to answer two questions from the previous chapter. In regards to Dennis, he is still alive, but not still around, as seen in this chapter. For convenience sake, he is a deadbeat Dad, although realistically he was never really around much for either girl. The other question that I want to answer is whether Derek will ever go to Casey for parenting tips if Marti or Simon "go overboard." The answer I am going to give is yes and no. Yes, he will need to call on Casey (and even Lizzie), but not because either child is going to go overboard. We will see them go through their own age-related challenges, although I am leaving hints about Simon's future. A big hint will be dropped in the next chapter.

Anyway, thank you all again for your support. Please review! Your reviews inspire me to get new chapters out quickly (and you ask such awesome questions)!


	5. Snacktime

**Chapter 5: Snacktime**

* * *

I'd like to think that I came into my own as a parental figure after Lizzie left to resume her freshman year at McGill University in January. When she was around, parenting was all about…conforming. I had to adhere to society's rules: bed times, square meals, bathing and the like.

After she left, I began to redefine parenthood. I was able to make my own rules: go to sleep when you want, eat snacks if you feel like it, and bathe…well, daily bathing was still strictly required. I mean, have you smelled a five year-old lately?

I thought I was a revolutionary during those first few weeks. But, if raising children has taught me anything, it's that no matter what I do, I'm wrong.

Case in point: making lunches.

Now, Lizzie had made the kids' lunches when she was around, and I was all for it. We would split the morning chores right down the middle: she made breakfast and lunch, and I woke Marti and Simon to make sure they were packed up and ready for school. Her lunch was a classic: sandwich, fruit, chips, and a desert.

After she left, I decided to reform the process by making lunches the night before and putting in plenty of delicious (read: unhealthy) snacks instead of the healthy crap she put in them. However, my revolution was over before it started.

When Marti and Simon got home from school after their first day back from break, I asked them the same thing I ask them everyday: "How was your day?"

Usually, I got very unrevealing, stereotyped answers, such as "Fine," "Good," or "Okay." Today, Simon yelled, "Poopy!"

Before I could respond to the oddly revealing answer, he ran upstairs and shut his door behind him. "What happened?" I asked Marti.

"You screwed up lunch," she responded in a tone that implied I should have known that I was wrong.

"How?"

"Where do I start? You didn't cut the crust off his sandwich…"

"Why can't he eat around the crust?" I interrupted, inwardly grimacing. Dad had asked me that same question when I was about Simon's age.

"I don't know! What am I psychic? Just don't do it again! He ran up to me at lunch and started whining to me in front of all of my friends until I cut the crust off his sandwich myself. It was so embarrassing!"

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"It was! He also made me trade chips with him…"

"What? Why did he want to trade chips? He loves Doritos!"

"He loves _classic_ Doritos. You gave him blue ranch. And even after that I had to beg Stacey to give him an apple because he didn't want extra cookies…"

"He didn't want extra cookies? What kind of Venturi is he?"

"Apparently a smart one. Derek, between the chips and the sandwich and the lack of fruit the only thing he liked was the stuff _I _gave him." She continued muttering under her breath at my inability to make school lunches all the way up to her room.

"Fine," I mumbled to myself. "If he wants a sandwich with the crust cut off, I'll give him a sandwich with the crust cut off." So, even though I originally wasn't planning on making their lunches until later that night, I walked into the kitchen and pulled out everything I would need. Bread, roast beef, apples, bags of _classic_ Doritos, and two cookies. As I cut the crust off Simon's sandwich, I grinned. This was the lunch to end all lunches, I was sure.

..::..

The next day, I waited by the door for Simon and Marti to come in and proclaim that they ate the greatest lunch off all time today. When the bus rolled in at exactly 3:17, I asked, "How was your day?"

I was expecting enthusiastically positive answers: "Awesome," "Amazing," "Life fulfilling!" (Okay, so maybe I wasn't expecting Simon to say that one lunch fulfilled his life, but a guy can dream, right?)

"I hate you!" Simon yelled in a similar reaction to the day before. Sure enough, he ran up the stairs and slammed his door shut.

I plopped into my chair and buried my face in my hands. "What did I do now?" I asked Marti, who sat on the couch opposite me. "I cut off the crust, I gave him only one dessert, and I even gave him the chips he liked. Why is he still so mad?"

"Because you cut the sandwich horizontally," she said in that stupid tone once again.

"Why does that matter?" I asked exasperatedly. It was such a pointless detail! I mean, how can you even tell if a sandwich is cut horizontally or vertically when the crust is cut off?

"To him it does," she shrugged as though this was just another fact of life, like the sky being blue.

"How was I supposed to cut it then, Little Miss Know-It-All?"

"Diagonally, duh." Okay, so I'm not sure if she said duh or merely implied it, but it was clearly there.

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" I hollered. She seemed put-off by my tone, but I was frustrated. How many tries was it going to take to get this kid to eat his lunches?

"You could ask."

"Yeah, because five year-olds are always so clear in expressing their needs." What was she thinking?

"You know that's not what I meant." No, I don't. "Call Lizzie. He always ate her lunches." Oh. Her.

"I can't bother her. She has class." Well, that's not true. She said I could call her anytime if I needed help, but this wasn't one of those times. I mean, who needs advice on how to make lunches, of all things. At least class was good excuse not to call her.

"That's a terrible excuse. You know she said you could."

"Fine, but I don't need help. How's that for an excuse?" I asked her accusingly, perhaps a little too harshly as she jumped up in a huff.

"Be that way then!" She stormed up the steps to her room, looking all too much like the teenager she was still two years away from being. Before she slammed the door behind her, she shouted, "By the way, it's a crappy excuse!"

"Watch your language!" I yelled up the steps, but she didn't respond. Sighing, I headed into the kitchen and began to make the lunches while Marti's advice was fresh in my mind. After making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I was sure to cut the crustless sandwich diagonally.

..::..

Okay, so after two days of failing, I was hoping (no, praying) for any response other than "I hate you," or "poopy." But, when Simon responded to my simple question of "How was your day?" with a scream of frustration as he ran up the stairs to his room, I wasn't exactly relieved.

"What did I do now?" I asked Marti after she put her backpack down in the foyer.

"Why should I tell you?" she asked harshly. "Yesterday you said that you didn't need help." Oh right. That.

"Well, I do need help," I reluctantly admitted. "Just tell me what I did wrong this time. It was a crustless sandwich, I cut it diagonally…"

"But you filled it with peanut butter and jelly."

"He loves peanut butter and jelly!" Okay, this time I seriously had no idea what I did wrong.

"He loves peanut butter and jelly _on Thursdays_. Just like he loves turkey on Mondays, roast beef on Tuesdays, _pastrami_ on Wednesdays, and tuna on Fridays."

"Wait, there's a schedule? How come I never heard of it?"

She shrugged. "You never asked. I assumed you knew because you got it right the last few days."

I began to rub my face. "Ugh, there's a schedule!"

"Nora always used the cold cuts early in the week so they wouldn't go bad in the fridge." I think she knew that the logic behind the schedule wasn't what bothered me because, unexpectedly, she decided to disregard our fight and pat me on the back. "You could've asked for help."

"I didn't think I needed it."

"I guess you were wrong."

_"Listen, I'm not trying to make mistakes. I'm trying…"_

_ "All you're trying to do is be independent of everyone else."_

_ "What's wrong with that?"_

_ "Nothing. But instead you're trying make yourself seem original and unique and god's gift to parenting, which you're not."_

_ "Not yet," I quietly defended._

_ "Not ever if you keep acting like this! You can't just throw away everything that everyone before you has done. If everyone else sucks at parenting, how do we have a functional society?"_

_ "Societal conditions aside, I'm not throwing away everything."_

_ "Really? What do you call your 'no bedtime rule?' The 'eat-when-you-want rule?' The 'bathe-when-necessary rule?'"_

_ "Hey, we both know that I rescinded that last rule after Simon took advantage of it for four days."_

_ "That's four days too many! We need structure! We need rules!"_

_ "You have structures and rules. Just very liberal rules and very loose structure."_

_ "That's what you call it? Liberal rules and loose structures? What would Dad and Nora say?"_

_ "I don't know!"_

_ "Maybe we should call Casey and Lizzie and ask them. I'm sure either one of them would have some interesting things to say about the situation."_

_ "I'm sure they would, but I don't have to consult them on every decision."_

_ "Yes, but you're supposed to be a team. And you have yet to even discuss the tiniest details. When are you going to take us shopping for new winter clothes? Simon can't keep wearing our ancient hand-me-downs forever!"_

_ "Let's get back to what's important here…"_

_ "You mean your resistance to ask for help, your asinine rules (or lack thereof) or your inability to make lunches that Simon will eat."_

_ "Language!"_

_ "I said asinine not ass."_

_ "Hey! That time you did!"_

_"I'm surprised you don't have a liberal rule about cursing." She rolled her eyes at the mention of my rules._

_ "Don't you take that tone with me young lady." I waved my finger in her face as my father had done numerous times before._

_ She ignored me. "Listen, you need to get over your own insecurities."_

_ "What do my insecurities have to do with anything?"_

_ "They have to do with everything. You somehow think that because you aren't entirely sure you can do this on your own that you have something to prove. You already proved that you're a great parental figure over the last two months. Use the rules that got you this far, even if Dad and Nora and Casey and Lizzie helped make them. Call for help. Stop trying so hard to prove something to everyone else and buckle down to do what needs to be done."_

_ I mulled over her words before the strangeness of our conversation became apparent. "You realize you're eleven? How do you know what I'm thinking?"_

_ "I'm almost twelve. And besides, you know this conversation is all happening in your head."_

"Huh?"

"I said, 'I guess you were wrong'. In case you weren't listening to everything else I said, tomorrow is peanut butter and jelly." She got up from the sofa and went into her room to start her homework, leaving me to ponder the incredibly strange conversation that we apparently did not have.

With a sigh, I pulled out my cell phone. I begrudgingly dialed Lizzie's number and waited for her to pick up.

"Hey Derek, what's up?" she said calmly.

I was slightly surprised by her composure, considering the last time I called her at school she was frazzled by some exam or something. "Not much. How's it going at school?"

"It's okay," she admitted. "Freshman classes are much easier the second time around. The accident might have been the best thing to happen to my GPA." Her joke fell flat, although we both attempted to chuckle. "Seriously though, what's up?"

"I'm insulted. Why can't I just be calling to catch up?"

"Because last time you called me was to say that our parents were dead. And I can't remember the last time you called me before that."

"Fair enough," I conceded. "Listen, I'm having trouble making lunches that Simon will eat."

I was completely serious, but strangely enough, she laughed. "That's weird."

I had to laugh along. It really was a ridiculous situation "Yeah, I know, but he keeps crying to Marti every time I get it wrong."

The laughter on the other end stopped abruptly. "Every time? How many times have you messed up?"

I paused. "Three times."

"Three?" The laughter on her end resumed. "What did you do?"

"The first time I gave him the wrong chips and too many cookies and I didn't cut the crust off his sandwich or give him an apple."

"Okay, so what did you do the second day?"

"I fixed all of that, but I didn't cut the sandwich diagonally."

"Yeah, Mom always used to do that." Her voice trailed off. "What about the third day?"

"I fixed that, but I gave him PB and J instead of pastrami."

"Oh, you didn't know there was a schedule! It's turkey on Mondays, roast beef on Tuesdays, pastrami on Wednesdays…"

"PB and J on Thursdays and tuna on Fridays," I finished. "Marti told me."

"Okay, so now you know the schedule. Sounds like you've got everything down."

"Are you sure I didn't forget everything? I can't have him not eating his lunch one more day."

She laughed again. "I really think it'll be fine tomorrow."

"Okay, thanks."

I was about to say goodbye and hang up before Lizzie interrupted me. "Wait Derek. Casey called me yesterday. She said that she wanted to talk to you about getting some new winter clothes for Simon and Marti."

"Yeah, I was just talking to Marti about that." Well, not really. I think. "Should I just call her?"

"Yeah, she's not that busy tomorrow I think. I'll talk to you later Derek. Let me know how it goes tomorrow."

"Okay, I will. Bye Liz."

"Bye Derek." I hung up and went into the kitchen. As I pulled out the bread, peanut butter, jelly, chips, apple, and cookies, I had only one thought: if Simon doesn't each this lunch, it's Lizzie's fault, not mine.

..::..

The next day, I braced myself for the inevitable. When Simon and Marti came home, I delayed asking my usual question. I didn't want the "poopy," the "I hate you" or the frustrated screams. But, I had to ask: "How was your day?"

"Fine," Simon said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

I was about to collapse in my chair and groan when I realized what he said. "Wait, you said fine!" I grabbed his shoulders and began doing a little happy dance in place.

He looked me in the eyes. "Yeah, fine." He started staring at the floor and tried to squirm out of my grasp, but I wouldn't have it.

"So, you liked your lunch?"

He shrugged. "I ate it." Then he ran up the stairs as fast as he could, clearly uncomfortable with my display of happiness.

"Yes!" I launched into my full-scale happy dance around the floor. "He liked it, he liked it," I sang. I even grabbed Marti and made her dance with me.

She giggled as I twirled her around. "Way to go!"

"I know!" I yelled as I hugged her tightly and swung her around the room.

I was reaching for my phone to call Lizzie when I heard Marti tease me while walking up the stairs: "One down, a thousand left to go."

I collapsed into my chair with a groan. A thousand left to go. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get him to eat five hundred of them.

* * *

Sorry if this update is a little shorter than the last, but I wanted something short and sweet (especially because classes started up again today and my time to write will rapidly begin to decrease). If you are confused by Derek and Marti's faux conversation, I intended it to be Derek's subconscious projecting itself through Marti. Also, I just have to say that when I was in school, my mother used to have a very similar lunch schedule. Although I didn't realize this until high school, my sister always complained when we received a deviation.

Like I said at the end of the last chapter, I think this chapter is a huge clue as to what Simon's future will hold. It will become more obvious in due time.

As usual, your reviews mean everything to me. As much as I love the "favorites" and the "email alerts" (and I really do love them), if you don't review I have no idea how to improve my story! So please give me feedback!


	6. Love, Pain & the Whole Crazy Thing

Sorry for the delay in uploading. Yes, a few years is fairly unacceptable.

That being said, this chapter will begin **Season 2.** I am structuring this story into seasons, and this chapter will begin more of a _Scrubs_ narrative approach, where the narrator does not always need to be present. This chapter will also introduce many of the themes that will be explored throughout the season.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Love, Pain & the Whole Crazy Thing**

* * *

Tonight was the night of my big date. Well, maybe not a "big" date, but when you consider that I hadn't even hit on a woman since Dad and Nora died, it seemed like a big night. I was patting some cologne on my face when the doorbell rang.

"Marti, can you get that?" I hollered, quickly running my hands through my hair to give it that subtle I-don't-care look.

"Fine!" she called from downstairs. She wasn't too happy about this situation, but she seemed to understand that I had a right to go out.

I heard her open the door as I walked into the hallway but by the time I got down the stairs she had slammed it shut. "What happened?" I asked her.

"I did _not _agree to this!" she screamed as she ran up the steps.

"What was that about?" I asked Simon, who was sitting on the couch playing with his Gameboy.

"Kelli's at the door with her mommy," he responded coolly, not really caring about the implications of his words.

Shit, I thought as I opened the door. I really screwed up this time.

..::..

Really, that night wasn't where this story started. It all started innocently enough (as most life-altering mistakes do) one afternoon when the phone rang at home: "Hello, is this Derek Venturi?"

"Yep," I said casually. Maybe too casually…

The voice on the other end groaned. Then I recognized the voice as the secretary for Marti and Simon's school. "Listen, I'll make this quick. End of term parent-teacher conferences are next Thursday and we try to schedule the single parents first so they can plan around it."

I looked at the calendar on the wall quickly. "Oh, well there's no game so I'm free anytime Thursday."

"Typical," I heard her mutter.

"I work for the London Knights," I clarified, though I wasn't exactly sure how that little tidbit would improve her image of me.

"Whatever. How does 5:30 with Ms. Carlton and 6:00 with Ms. Hewitt sound?"

"Sounds good. Do people usually bring their kids to these things?"

She paused. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. It's been like fifteen years since I was in elementary school."

She sighed. "If you can't get a sitter you can bring them. There are volunteers from the high school that watch the kids in one of the cafeterias."

"Thanks. Can't wait to see you there." And she hung up on me and my faux cheeriness.

..::..

"Why do I have to go _back_ to school?" Simon asked me the night of the parent-teacher conferences.

"Because I need to talk to Ms. Carlton." I responded, straightening the collar on his polo as I zipped up his jacket.

"Why do _you _need to talk to her?" he asked again, placing special emphasis on the _you,_ as though it was forbidden by some law for me to talk to her.

"Because she wants to tell me how awesome you're doing at school!" I said happily, trying to make him excited about going back to school.

"Well why do _I _have to go?"

"Seriously Derek, why do we have to go? Dad and Mom never made us go," Marti echoed as she walked down the stairs. She was mad that I had made her change after school into a pink collared shirt and skirt so I would seem like a more responsible parent. I'd trade outfits anytime though, since the tie I was wearing was practically strangling me.

"Because your teachers expect me to have some sort of childcare and I don't think they would approve of me leaving you in charge of Simon while I talk about you in school."

"Bad excuse," Marti groaned while she grabbed her coat.

"Fine, how about if you go and don't complain, you can sit in on my meeting with your teacher."

Her eyes perked up at the request. "Really?" she asked.

"Really."

"What's the catch?" she wondered as she raised her eyebrows up suspiciously.

"No catch."

"There's always a catch."

"Just get in the car or we'll be late."

Marti and Simon both ran up to my car, a suddenly not-so-sleek Jetta that had become the family car by default. "Backseat, both of you!" I demanded.

"Why can't I sit in the front seat?!" Marti asked obstinately, in a way that would have made teenaged-me proud.

"Because, you're only eleven and I need the parents and teachers at your school to think that I'm as responsible as possible."

"I hate responsible you," Marti muttered under her breath as she sat down next to Simon, who of course began obliviously playing with his Gameboy the second he sat down.

..::..

When we got to the school, there were signs pointing us to the cafeteria, where volunteers from the high school were offering free childcare and tutoring for service hours.

The only thing I didn't like was the way one of the girls was dressed. She was short and blond, but she was wearing a sweatshirt that had a neck stretched so wide you could see the camisole underneath. She wasn't very well endowed, but it was the kind of thing that would have driven me wild as a teenager. Now, as a parent watching her help younger girls stretch the necks of their sweatshirts to help them show off their skin, not so much.

A parent noticed me staring at her. "I know. What was her mother thinking?"

"Kids today," I responded as though I wasn't one of them. She nodded in mutual disproval as she went up to one of the younger girls playing with her neckline and yanked her away.

"So, Smarti…" I began.

"DER-EK!" she hissed. "You can't call me that _here_!" She pointed to the girls I was looking at.

"Okay, well Marti's coming with me," I said to Simon. "Why don't you go and play with your friends?"

"Do I have to?" he responded.

"Huh?"

"Can't I just play Pokémon by myself?" he asked.

"Uh, sure." I walked up to one of the other volunteers with Simon. "Hi, this is my brother Simon. He's in Kindergarten and I'll need you to watch him for about an hour while I go to the conferences." She nodded along before she shoved a clipboard in my hands for me to sign him in. I filled out his name, signed mine and returned the clipboard. "He just wants to play with his Gameboy." Again she nodded and excitedly walked him over to a table where other kids were playing with toys silently.

"Alright Sm…Marti," I said, trying to cover my obvious mental lapse, "let's go meet Simon's Kindergarten teacher!"

She nodded and led the way to the hallway where the Kindergarten classrooms were. We took a seat on two plastic chairs set up outside the room, but the teacher, an older looking woman who could pass for my grandmother, escorted us in almost immediately.

"Hello Mr. Venturi," Ms. Carlton said kindly, further reminding me of my grandmother with her sweet tone. She sounded so familiar.

"Hello, nice to meet you," I said as I sat down.

"And hello Marti. Are you hear to discuss your brother as well?" she asked sweetly, without the slightest hint of annoyance at her presence. Marti nodded slightly when she took the seat next to me. "You look very cute in that outfit. Anyway, Mr. Venturi…"

"Please, call me Derek," I said, using all of my interpersonal skills. Acting like an adult felt so…unnatural.

"Derek? You can't be Derek Venturi," Ms. Carlton mumbled, dropping her sugary voice in favor of a more natural sounding gruffness.

"Yes, I'm Derek Venturi." That's what I just said lady.

"Well, I'm sure you grew up into a responsible young man," she said.

"I have," I said, half-questioningly.

"Well, you were in my first class, when I was just starting out," she explained as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a carton of Marlboros. She hit the bottom of the box a few times.

"Are you allowed to smoke in here?" I asked nervously.

She raised an eyebrow as she lit one up. "You did this to me."

Marti stifled a laugh. "I'm, er, sorry about the way that I, uh, treated you," I explained.

"All water under the bridge," she said as she exhaled. Ugh, this was going to be a long half-hour.

"So, how's Simon doing?" I asked.

"Oh, academically he's doing very well." She pulled out a sheet and gave it to me. It was his first ever report card. "So, as you can see he's mastered writing and reading all of his letters and he's reading at least two and a half years above grade level."

Wow, he really wasn't a Venturi. "That's awesome!"

"Yes, it is a tad unusual." Her choice of words was strange. Unusual is a word you use to describe the way week-old milk tastes, not the advanced academic ability of a child.

"He plays a lot of video games," I offered, trying to explain the unusualness.

She nodded halfheartedly. "In terms of his mathematical ability, he can count to one hundred if you ask him to, which is right where he should be. He has also done very well with addition and subtraction."

"Great!" Maybe this meeting wouldn't be so long. He seems to be doing very well.

"Yes, his academic ability is great. His writing ability is on target and the science teacher has said that Simon is very attentive during her weekly sessions as well."

"Wow!" I said. He didn't seem to be the little genius she said he was, but hey I'd take it any day.

"Yes, but I'm afraid that's where the praise ends."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

"His social behavior is subpar, at best. He has very few friends in the class and he is unwilling to participate in group-work."

"Oh." There's always a catch.

"In fact, he has been rude to some of the students. When Jenny, the girl that sits next to Simon, couldn't answer an addition problem, Simon turned and asked her," she paused to look through her notes, "'What are you, stupid?'"

Marti actually laughed, but Mrs. Carlton glared at her until she stopped. "He has also been a bit of a loner, preferring to play by himself during recess."

"That's fine though, right?"

She sighed. "If any of these issues occurred independently of the others, I wouldn't be concerned. Has he shown any of these behaviors at home?"

"Well, he likes to do his work as soon as he gets home and then I let him watch TV or play video games."

"That's great, but not what I asked."

"I don't really know what to say. He plays by himself, but Marti and me…"

"Marti and I"

"Marti and I are the only other people in the house. It's play by himself, watch his older sister do homework, or help me do chores."

"Well, I am recommending that he be tested by the school psychologist…"

I cut her off when I swallowed my gum and began choking as it went down the wrong pipe. She waited until I coughed it up before asking, "All done?"

I nodded. "Sorry, it's just a shock."

"Well, I suppose it might be a shock, but it's in Simon's best interest that he be evaluated for placement into the gifted program."

"Gifted program?" Marti and I asked at the same time.

"Yes, I believe all of his behavioral problems are the result of boredom," she said with a chuckle.

"Oh, well that's great," I stammered. "When will he be evaluated?"

"Well, he's not a high priority, as it's evaluation for gifted services and not special education services. Our school psychologist is very busy right now, so it might not happen for a few months."

"Well, whenever they get around to it I suppose." God, my half-brother wasn't like any Venturi I know. Gifted? Casey will be so happy when she hears. "Is that all then?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Not exactly Derek. Have you talked to your case worker at all?"

Case worker? "I'm sorry, but I'm not following."

"The social worker assigned to your family." She was clearly felt awkward talking about this subject.

"Oh, well not really. She hadn't talked to us since I was awarded custody."

She nodded along. "I should warn you that all of Simon and Marti's school records will be sent to her office to ensure that you are taking proper care of the children."

"Wait, so they have access to my records?" Marti asked, speaking for the first time. "That's not fair."

"It's only because they care about you Marti," she responded in her sugary voice.

"Why do you think you need to warn me about this?" I asked.

She frowned. "This kind of behavior is typical of a child that is not adjusting well, so they may check in on you. If they ask me, I'll say you're doing a great job, but you need to be careful. They won't remove these children from your custody unless they have a reason, so no playing hooky or sudden decrease in academic performance young lady."

We both nodded along, previously unaware of these possibilities. "I'm sure you'll be fine, but just be aware that they will probably track you closely for the first year or so."

There were a few moments of silence, but I got up and shook her hand. "Thank you so much Mrs. Carlton. I'm glad that my brother has such a wonderful teacher. And I'm sorry that I made you start smoking when I was six."

She chuckled. "Like I said, water under the bridge. It's a pleasure being Simon's teacher."

..::..

"Hey Casey, it's Derek," I said when she picked up on the other end. Marti and I were waiting for Ms. Hewitt to finish with the previous parent. We were again sitting on chairs set up outside the classroom, but this time we weren't alone, as there was another mom sitting next to us waiting for the other fifth grade teacher.

"Derek, what's up?" she asked calmly, though I figured that this time of night she was probably in the library studying.

"What do you know about child custody laws?" I asked, deciding not to sugar coat the issue.

"Not a whole lot, that's a pretty specific branch of law. Why do you ask?" So, I told her everything Mrs. Carlton had said, from Simon's academic excellence to his behavior problems to the likely check-in from a caseworker. "Well, you haven't done anything wrong, so there's nothing to worry about," was her response.

"Could I lose custody though?" I asked.

"It's not likely, not unless they have reason to remove them. Really Derek, I wouldn't worry about it."

"Is that your expert legal advice?"

"You know I can't officially give you anything I claim to be legal advice," she said with a laugh. "If it makes you feel better, I'll do some research, but I really think you're fine."

"Okay. Thanks Casey."

"No problem."

"Oh, also, she said that she wants to have Simon evaluated for the Gifted Program. Pretty cool huh?"

"Yeah, that's awesome. Listen, I've got to go. Stay warm."

"Yeah you too." I sat back in relief as we hung up. "Casey said we have nothing to worry about," I reassured Marti. She nodded and went back to playing a game on her phone.

"I'm sorry, but are you Derek?" the mom sitting next to me asked. She didn't seem to be too much older than me, maybe in her early thirties.

"Yeah, Derek Venturi," I said with a smile.

"Oh, I'm Lindsay, one of the mom's here."

"Nice to meet you. Were you one of the mom's that made us dinner while our parents were in the hospital?" Several moms had sent us premade dinners once they had heard the news. There was a lot of lasagna those weeks. At least three every week.

She nodded. "Mine was the lasagna."

Marti opened her mouth to make a snide remark, but I beat her to it. "Well thank you so much. It was delicious."

She smiled. "Are you waiting for Ms. Hewitt or Ms. West?"

"Ms. Hewitt. Marti's in her class."

"Wow, my daughter's in Ms. Hewitt's class too. What a coincidence!" She flashed me another smile. I thought that I might have been seeing things, but it seemed that she was…flirting with me.

I was about to ask about her daughter, but the door opened and a couple stepped out. "Hello Marti. And you must be Mr. Venturi?" a blond woman about my age asked, reaching out to shake my hand.

I nodded and returned the handshake, but before I followed Marti and her teacher into the classroom, I turned to…shit, what's her name? "It was nice meeting you. Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Lindsay," she said with a smile.

"I know your name!" I said with a laugh, though she seemed more amused than anything.

"It's okay, just in the future you may want to remember the names of the single moms in the school." She was flirting! I knew it.

Marti however was not as amused. She was tapping her foot at the doorway, so I quickly followed her in.

..::..

After another mercifully short meeting, Marti and I were on our way back to the cafeteria to get Simon. "So, that was a good report."

"Yep."

"Do you wanna tell me what's going on with you and this Kelli girl?"

"Nope."

I made a buzzing noise. "That's not the answer I was looking for." I pulled her down a corridor and we sat down on a bench outside the gym. "So, tell me about her."

"I don't know what there is to tell," she pouted with her arms crossed.

"Let's start with why you pulled her hair last week."

"She was picking on me."

"Why didn't you tell your teacher that?"

"It's embarrassing."

"What was she saying?"

"It's…personal."

"Personal?" I asked aloud. What could be personal at 11 years… "Oh. Personal. Got it."

"Yeah," she said as she pulled her crossed arms over her chest.

"You know that I'm not the best person to talk to about this…"

"Then let's drop it and go home," she said, standing to leave.

"Not so fast," I said as I grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the bench. "You can call Lizzie or Casey later, but not until I get to say what I've got to say."

"And what is that?" she asked with a bemused smirk on her face.

"Well." I paused. "You see." I paused again and scratched my head. "Um there's this thing…"

"You didn't think this one through, did you?" she giggled.

"No, not really. What I'm trying to say is that I was picked on for being short. And I eventually grew. You, uh, will too. Was that good?"

"Yeah, can the awkwardness be over?"

"Yes, thank god." We both stood and returned to the cafeteria to pick up Simon. "Hi, I'm here to pick up Simon."

One of the volunteers nodded. "Sure, sign here." I signed the sheet, but the pen was stolen out of my hand before I could give it back to the volunteer.

"I'm here to pick up my two daughters," announced the woman from before. "Hello Derek. I didn't think I'd see you again so soon."

"It's a small world, isn't it Lindsay," I said with a chuckle.

She smiled widely at me. "I see you catch on quickly. Say, have you eaten dinner yet?"

Without looking at Marti, who in hindsight I'm sure was shooting me daggers or waving her arms frantically, I shook my head. "No, not yet."

"Well, why don't we all go to the pizza place down the block?"

"Sure, that sounds fine, right Marti?" I asked, finally turning to my sister, who was clearly giving me a look that screamed, "This is not fine."

The volunteer brought over Simon and a girl about his age. Lindsay bent over to greet Simon. "Hey there buddy, you're in the same class as my Jenny, aren't you." I nodded at the statement, without wondering why I knew that.

"Yeah," he replied without looking up from his game. "I got yelled at for calling her stupid."

Of course it would be the same Jenny. "Again, he's very sorry about that," I added, though I truthfully wasn't even sure that he had apologized in the first place.

I was about to run the kids to the car before Lindsay changed her mind, but one of the other volunteers wandered over to us. In fact, it was the volunteer that had been showing younger children how to rip their sweatshirts to show off more cleavage. "Mom," she whined, "can we go now? I'm so bored."

"Oh, I didn't realize your daughter was so much older," I admitted.

"Don't be silly Derek, this is my daughter Kelli. She's in Marti's class."

It was at that moment that I began to realize what a huge mistake I had made. Marti waited until we got into the car to voice her displeasure though. And by voice, I mean whack me off-side the head.

"Seriously Derek? After I opened up to you about her…"

"Marti, I didn't know who she was!"  
"Well, you need to start thinking with your head and not your…"

"Language!"

"I was going to say, uh, heart, honest."

"I'm not happy either," Simon said softly from the backseat, though without looking up from his Gameboy.

"Oh, and why's that?" I asked.

"Jenny's dumb."

"Simon, we don't call people dumb."

"Sorry."

"It's not Simon's fault if stupidity runs in that family," Marti muttered under her breath.

"Marti, remember that whole thing about treating others treating you the way you treat yourself." She stared at me blankly. "You get the idea."

"Oh, I do. 'Mine was the lasagna. Wasn't it yummy?'" she mimicked, pretty well I might add. She even threw in a few hair flips for good measure.

I put the car in park outside the restaurant, but made not effort to undo my seatbelt. "Okay, I know this isn't really the way either of you wanted to spend your night, but if you treat Lindsay and the girls civilly, I'll make it worth your while."

"Forty bucks," Marti offered.

"Twenty."

"Forty," she again offered, leaning back in the car with a wicked grin on her face.

"Twenty-five."

"Forty."

"Thirty."

"Fifty."

"Alright, I'll give you forty. Payable at the end of the night, provided you live up to your end of the bargain."

Marti paused to consider this. "I want half now, as an advance."

I sighed and pulled out my wallet to give her a crisp twenty. "I'm never letting you watch TV again." She smiled as she held it up to the light, and then slipped it into her wristlet once she was satisfied with its authenticity. Pleased with our deal, she undid her seatbelt and led us into the restaurant, not even groaning in the slightest when Lindsay waved us over to a table. She had gotten a round table, which unfortunately meant that Marti was seated next to Kelli and Simon next to Jenny, with us adults in the middle of our kids, directly across from each other.

"I put in for two medium pizzas," she explained, acknowledging the waiter next to the table, "but feel free to order anything else you may want."

"A Molson" Marti muttered under her breath.

I elbowed her jokingly. "What a kidder," I added, with a playful laugh for good measure. She responded in kind by stomping on my foot. "She does that all the time. Anyway, I think I'll just add on a salad and some spaghetti for my brother." The waiter nodded warily, but wrote down the extra items.

"So Derek, what do you do?" Lindsay asked, to the groans of three children. The only one who didn't was Kelli, apparently too busy playing with her iPod Touch to notice the flirtatious small talk.

"I work for the Knights. I'm the director of alternative media."

"That sounds so interesting," she replied. Read: I have no idea what you just said.

"Yeah, it is. I maintain the team's Facebook and Twitter pages, making sure the there are game updates, videos, interviews, and news articles. I also have to read through all of the player's pages to make sure they're only posting positive things."

Lindsay seemed genuinely interested, but her daughter beat her to the punch. "So, you're like paid to be on Twitter all day."

"Not exactly," I explained. "My job is to maintain our online presence in a positive way. So I also edit videos, plan giveaways, and other stuff like that. I also do some freelance writing."

"But I can, like, follow you and friend you?" Kelli asked. She leaned over the table, attempting to charm me.

"Not me, the team."

"Oh, but I already found you on Twitter and Facebook." Note to self: change privacy settings.

"Must be someone else. So Lindsay what do you do?"

"Well, I'm…"

"It has to be you," Kelli insisted. She turned her iPod to show me my profile picture.

"Oh. So Lindsay…"

"Accept my friend request."

"Oh, ok. So you were about to tell me what you do."

"I'm a paralegal at a local firm."

"Our sister is in law school," Marti said, eager to keep the topic of conversation away from me.

"Oh really. Where does she go?"

"Queen's. We both went there undergraduate and our brother is a junior there."

"Wow, I didn't realize you went there! Oil Thigh!"

"What does that mean?" Simon asked.

"I have no idea. It's what the students would chant whenever we scored a goal. It's like our fight song. It was always the best part of the game."

"So you played hockey there? I should have guessed."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I don't hide it well."

"It says here on your Facebook that you played wing for all four years and scored forty-seven goals in your career."

"Yeah, I guess it does…"

"Marti, do you have a Facebook?" Kelli asked innocently, though the smirk on her face showed that she really wanted to embarrass Marti. She probably knew that I wouldn't let her on the site.

Marti paled. "I, uh…don't."

I laughed at nudged Marti playfully. "Come on Marti, you can tell her."

Both girls stared at me confusedly. "Tell _her_?" Marti asked.

"Tell me what?" she asked with a devilish grin.

"About you being a total social media hipster."

"About her being a what?"

"A social media hipster. She doesn't like going on Facebook or Twitter because it's so mainstream. Right?"

"Yeah," Marti said, confidently enough.

"So what do you use?" Kelli asked.

"Google+," I answered for her. "At least until that gets too big, am I right?"

Marti played along and laughed. "Another month or so I guess."

The waiter came back to our table with our food and began setting it down, mercifully ending the conversation. Marti mouthed "Thank you," as she grabbed a slice of pizza.

The meal itself commenced mostly in silence, with just the occasional small talk here and there. The waiter came by with the check, and I swiped it out of his hands quickly.

"That's not fair," Lindsay said with a fake pout. "You didn't even give me a chance to pay."

"I can't help it. Razor sharp reflexes," I joked.

She smiled and reached across the table to put her hand on mine. "I'll be quicker next time."

"Next time?" Marti asked quietly. I was pretty sure Lindsay couldn't hear so I ignored it.

"What do you say we go out tomorrow? Privately."

"Sure. How does 7:30 work for you?" Marti stomped on my foot again, much harder than she did earlier in the night.

"Great. I'll pick you up then." She smiled brightly and grabbed her coat before leading her kids out.

"Pay up," Marti said sternly, as soon as all three were out of earshot.

"I should take out half as a penalty for stomping," I grumbled as I handed her another twenty.

"You should just be thankful that your _date_," she filled that word with as much venom as she possibly could, "is private tomorrow. My best behavior doesn't come cheap."

"Well, thank you both for being civil. I really appreciate it."

"Just don't let it happen again," Marti said. "I don't want to go on another 'bond with your new step-sister' play date anytime soon."

"I promise, you won't have to spend any time together. I'll be nice and go on one date, and then I'll tell her that I don't feel comfortable dating right now." She held out her pinky. "I pinky-swear."

"Okay, as long as I don't ever have to spend more time with _her_, you can go on a date with her mom."

..::..

And that brings us back to: "I did _not _agree to this!" Marti screamed as she ran up the steps.

"What was that about?" I asked Simon, who was sitting on the couch playing with his Gameboy.

"Kelli's at the door with her mommy," he responded coolly, not really caring about the implications of his words.

Shit, I thought as I opened the door. I really screwed up this time. "Hi Lindsay!" I exclaimed, perhaps a little too eagerly. "And if it isn't Kelli and Jenny." I said, trying to make my confusion as clear as possible.

"You still didn't accept my friend request," Kelli smirked as she waltzed into the living room with her younger sister. In sharp contrast with my own sister, who was wearing pajama bottoms and a tank top, Kelli was dressed to the nines, apparently trying to attract my eye with a tight t-shirt that clung to her chest and skinny jeans.

"Sorry, I know we didn't discuss this," Lindsay explained, leaning up to my ear to continue at a whisper, "but this way we have somewhere to sleep before we come back."

_"I'm the one who's sorry, but I promised my sister that she wouldn't have to spend anymore time with your skanky daughter than she already has to," _is what I should have said.

"I'll go tell Marti," is what I did say.

I ran up the steps and knocked on her door lightly. "Hey Smarti."

"I hate you!" she screamed.

"I know, and I'm sorry. She said she couldn't get a babysitter and she thought I had one for you," I lied.

"LIAR! I know you're being a jerk and thinking with your…"

"Language!"

"…heart," she finished weakly.

"I know, and I'm really sorry," I sighed. "But I'll follow through on the rest of our promise, and you'll never, ever have to do this again." She remained silent. "And I'll give you fifty bucks." I pulled out my wallet to ensure that I actually had that much, but she opened the door and grabbed the entire wad out of my wallet. "She said she'd pay, right Mr. Razor-Sharp-Reflexes?"

I sighed. "Thanks Marti, I really appreciate it."

"I know. But we're going to have a nice long talk about this when you get home."

I laughed and led her downstairs by the shoulder. "Alright Lindsay, we're ready to go."

"Bye kids! Behave yourselves!" She hollered as we exited the house.

We should have known they wouldn't. Now, I wasn't there in the house to witness this, but I'll use a combination of eyewitness reports, hard evidence, and conjecture to piece together what happened next.

"Uh, hi Kelli."

"Hey there, Smarti," Kelli replied with a smirk.

"Embarrassing right," Marti replied with a laugh.

"I'll say. In less than a minute, fifteen people commented about it on Facebook."

"Oh."

"I'm bored!" Jenny shouted from the couch. "Is there anything to do around here?"

"Me too!" Simon cried out in agreement.

"Simon, why don't you play with your Gameboy?"

"I don't wanna! I'm bored too."

"Well at least one of us made a new friend tonight," Marti muttered under her breath. "We can play a board game."

"Boo!" Jenny shouted.

"What about a movie?"

"I've seen all our movies!" Simon yelled.

"What about Toy Story 3? You love that movie!" Marti suggested. Simon paused to consider this, but Jenny was already jumping up and down in excitement. "I guess we found a winner. I'll go upstairs and get it." She ran up the stairs and came back downstairs with the DVD and her Lotso Bear from Christmas.

"Is that a real Lotso doll?" Jenny asked.

"Yeah, my mom got it for me for Christmas. We started a teddy bear collection when I was younger, and she thought this would be the perfect " Marti replied. At this point, I assume Kelli snorted, cackled, or laughed maniacally, but Marti ignored it.

"That's so cool!" Jenny exclaimed.

Marti smiled as she popped in the movie. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" She started the movie and sat between Simon and Jenny, placing the doll on her lap. She ignored Kelli, who in turn just sat on my chair, laughing every now and then at the texts on her phone. Marti was pleased with their peaceful coexistence, until she began getting texts from Dimi about halfway through the movie.

"yo M, is Kelli ur house?"

Marti snorted. "Haha yeah, I guess you saw her status. Derek let a Smarti slip."

"worse – u need 2 c this pic." Marti furrowed her eyebrows as she downloaded a pictured attached to the text…of her, on the couch in her pajamas, with a teddy bear on her lap, clearly watching _Toy Story 3_.

"OMG!"

"i no! she called it 'widdle smarti w/ her bffs.'"

Marti squealed in shock, and shot a look at Kelli, who was still smiling over some texts. "OMG!"

"sry, but u need 2 no."

"Thanks." Unsure of what to do, Marti then sent this text to me: "Smerek, this picture is on facebook. Please help!"

..::..

"So, I guess we can finally have an adult conversation now," I said with a chuckle as we were seated at the restaurant.

"I'm tempted to skip the adult conversation and jump to adult activities." She flashed me a grin and rubbed her foot against my leg.

"No so fast, you're paying tonight, right?" I asked playfully. Before she responded, I threw my arm in the air and said, "Waiter, two steaks to go!"

She laughed. "You have such a great sense of humor."

"Thanks, it's genetic. Along with my charm."

"So you think," she joked. It had to be a joke, right?

We sat in silence for a few minutes until we ordered. "So, your girls seem sweet."

She chuckled again. "This is your idea of adult conversation?"

"Sorry, I'm new to this whole parenting thing."

"You're certainly doing a good job though. I was room mom last year, and Simon doesn't seem to have missed a beat."

"He's handled everything really well."

"And I loved the way you helped Marti avoid embarrassment the other night. I don't think Kelli even realized that you were lying."

It was my turn to chuckle. "I had already slipped up and called her Smarti in front of her friends earlier that night. I didn't want to screw up again."

"I take it you have rules against using Facebook?"

"Well, my parents did, and they had a point. The site says you have to be at least 13 years old to use it. Besides, with all this stuff about cyber-bullying and child predators, I just feel safer having her off there."

Lindsay nodded along. "I see your point, but if I'm friends with Kelli on Facebook, I can see everything she posts, and what her friends post, so I know she's not being bullied or seduced."

The waiter brought our appetizers out, but I wasn't ready to drop this conversation. "Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I just want to know if Kelli changed her privacy settings at all?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Well, she can change her settings so certain people can only see certain things. She could hide posts, friends, or even her entire profile from you." She just rolled her eyes. "She could also use it to hide what bullies are saying so you won't rat them out."

"She wouldn't do that." Lindsay took a bite of her salad. "Would she?"

"I don't know." I pulled out my cell phone. "She sent me a friend request. I'll accept, and you can look through her profile to see if everything's the same."

She nodded and accepted my cell phone. I took a few spoonfuls of soup, but Lindsay was still scrolling through her daughter's wall. "Is everything alright? Is she being bullied?"

"No." Why would a bully be bullied? "She has a lot of negative statuses about people. 'Dear Erin, take a shower.' 'Glad I can still give Jared a boner just by winking at him. Need someone to do my homework.' 'OMG, Katie is so fugly.' My daughter is the bully."

Duh. "I'm so sorry."

She handed me my phone back. "No, thanks for showing this to me Derek. I should have known she would figure out a way to keep me from seeing everything."

"Kids, am I right?" I asked with a laugh.

She just shook her head. "You need to see her most recent post."

I looked down at my phone and read the status out loud: "Spending the night with widdle Smarti and our dorks. She feels so at home lol."

"I'm so sorry. I'll have a talk with her about this when I get home."

"Thanks. Hopefully it'll blow over before school on Monday and she won't find out." Lindsay nodded, and we finished our appetizers. We began talking about our college days when I my phone started playing the chorus to "American Girl" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

"I didn't know you were a fan."

"I am, but that's Marti's ringtone. I hope everything's ok." I then read the text she sent me out loud: "Smerek, this picture is on facebook. Please help!"

"What picture?"

"This picture," I handed her the phone.

"Kelli Evelyn Meyers," she muttered under her breath. "I'm so sorry. Waiter, check please. We need to get you home."

"I'm sure Marti's near tears." Within twenty minutes, we were back at the house, which was pretty impressive since it took us about forty to get there and our only conversation was Lindsay listing the various punishments she was going to give her daughter.

I unlocked the door quickly and Marti ran up to me. "Thank you," she whispered into my shirt.

I hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear, "Go upstairs. I'll be up in a minute." She nodded and took the steps three at a time.

"What's wrong with her?" Kelli asked innocently.

Lindsay snatched the cell phone out of her daughter's hands. "You are. Now get in the car before I explode."

"I have no idea what you're…"

"One!" Kelli considered whether she should respond, but as soon as Lindsay yelled, "Two!" she was in the car.

"Can we finish the movie, there's only two minutes left!" Jenny yelled.

"Sure honey. Then you won't have to hear the bad words I'm about to say." She turned and put her arm on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry Derek, Marti has been through enough already. Don't worry, Kelli will be giving her a full apology on Monday and I'll tell Ms. Hewitt so she can separate the girls in class."

"Thank you, for that and for dinner."

She chuckled. "It's the least I can do."

As soon as the movie was over, I sent Simon upstairs to get ready for bed and walked Jenny out to the car, though her mom still seemed quite red. Then, I locked the door and ran up the steps to Marti's room. I knocked softly and heard her say, "Come in."

"Listen Marti, I'm so sorry. I know I'll never be able to make this up to you…"

"It's ok Derek."

"…but I'm certainly going to try. In fact…"

"It's really ok Derek."

"…I'll take you to… What did you say?"

"It's ok Derek. Dimi said that no one takes her seriously anymore, since she posts mean things about everyone. Besides, half the people commented that they were jealous of my Lotso doll and asked to come over."

"That's good."

"Yeah. I mean, it's embarrassing, but everyone will forget by Monday."

"Listen, I thought about this and I want to promise you that I won't date anyone at your school again, and if I want to I'll ask your permission before I break the rule."

She held out her pinky. "Pinky swear?"

"Definitely. It'll never happen again Smarti."

She didn't let go. "And I'll never go on another awkward meet-your-new-step-sister play-date?"

"Nope."

"Good. Tonight was exhausting enough."

"I'm sure Lizzie and Casey felt the same way when they tried to buy your love all those years ago." She pouted and I laughed as I got off the bed and stood at the door to turn out the light. "Love you Smarti."

"Love you too Smerek."

So, thankfully I only ended up altering my life forever that night, and not hers. It was a rude awakening, but I learned three really important lessons. One, always ask the right questions to Marti and Simon so I know exactly who's they're having issues with. Two, once you find that out, never go out on a date with their mom. And three, if you somehow find yourself in a car with a pissed off mom trying to get somewhere quickly, roll down the window.


	7. Told You So

Disclaimer: Beyond the "don't own" nonsense, I don't think there is anything in this chapter that wouldn't make it into a PG-13 movie or a network primetime TV show, but your mileage may vary. If you feel I should raise the bar a little, let me know and I will, but I think it all falls under "minor suggestive themes."

If I'm being honest, this chapter originally wasn't going to go here, but I wanted a little more table-setting before going forward. As I said last chapter, there will be many themes explored throughout **Season 2**, including an arc for every character, and I wanted to spend a little time with the whole family to properly introduce everyone's arc before sending them off on their way. Some of the foreshadowing is subtle, and some of it is obvious, but I hope you'll enjoy.

In response to possibly my favorite guest review, asking about the pairings: I purposely do not say who is going to end up in a relationship with whom. To me, it takes all the fun out of writing and reading the story as it progresses.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Told You So**

* * *

When you're a young adult, your weekends are free. You can sleep when you want, you can party when you want, and… well, if you want to do a third thing, you can do that third thing whenever you want.

When you have a family, every weekend needs to be action-packed. We're talking play dates, movies, sports, and birthday parties. Even going to the grocery store needs to be an exciting production.

Why?

Because every parent fears these words: "I'm bored."

Those words only precede truly awful things. Like temper tantrums, whining, and board games. And calls to your siblings.

Maybe in traditional families, calls to aunts and uncles aren't so bad. Maybe they offer to take your kids to the park or the zoo for you, to give you a few hours of peace. But my siblings live hours away, and just make awful suggestions.

"Der-ek, you need to culture them!" Casey usually says before ordering me to take Marti and Simon to a library or museum.

"They should go outside more!" Lizzie always says helpfully. Unfortunately, locking them in the backyard doesn't count.

Thankfully, Edwin's always got my back when it comes to these sorts of suggestions. And by that, I mean he doesn't make any stupid suggestions.

Which may explain why I was surprised when Edwin called me out of the blue on a Saturday afternoon when I was at work. It was about two hours before puck drop, and I was running a bit behind schedule.

"What?" I answered.

"Don't I get a 'Hello'?"

"No. Make it fast, my boss is breathing down my neck about getting the gameday previews up."

"I got a call from Marti. She's bored."

Of course she is. She refused to go over to a friend's house during the game and was stuck at home with Simon. "And?"

"And I think I have a solution so this doesn't happen again next weekend."

"Next weekend I don't have a game. We're going to go to her friend's birthday party."

"I have a better plan."

I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Are you making a sarcastic gesture?"

I shrugged.

"Anyway, my girlfriend Sam has family who live in Snowflake, Ontario, which is about halfway between Queens and London."

"No way!" I insincerely exclaimed. "I had no idea!"

He ignored me. "Next weekend is the town's annual Snowflake Festival."

"Big whoop."

"No, you don't get it. Snowflake has a downtown carnival every year. Bouncehouses, games, snowflake decorations everywhere, and this year they're even going to do outdoor youth hockey."

"So?"

"So we all go there and have a great time!"

"Have you thought about the logistics?"

"Have I thought about the logistics? Sam's Aunt and Uncle run the Snowflake Inn and we can get two rooms with two double beds for the price of one room." I was about to open my mouth when he said, "$300. They could even get an extra room if you or, maybe, Lizzie wants to take a date."

"I'm pretty sure that you're the only one with a date."

"Oh." He didn't have a comment for that.

"How will Lizzie get there?"

"Sam's mom works for Air Canada and can get Lizzie booked to fly stand-by for nearly nothing. She can meet us there. Any other questions?"

My boss was coming over to my desk, and he was not looking happy. "What uh…where uh…Do I really have to do this?"

"I already promised Simon."

My boss was about a foot away from my desk. "Alright fine bye," I spit out as quickly as I could.

"Venturi, those videos were supposed to be ready this morning! Where are they?" my boss yelled.

"They're almost done I promise," I lied.

"They better be Venturi," he threatened as he walked away. I nodded nervously and went back to my furious typing.

..::..

I got home at about ten o'clock, after being chewed out by my boss for missing yet another deadline. I tried to make up for it by having all the post-game materials online before I left the arena, but judging by the sarcastic "Nice work Venturi," I got as I said goodbye, I doubted that it did any good.

"Long night?" Marti asked as I opened the door. She was lying on the couch watching TV in her pajamas.

"I'll say," I groaned, not even questioning her presence. She always stayed up to see me when I got home.

"Me too. There's nothing good on TV."

"Didn't you watch the Knights game?"

She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "They lost 8-1 to Erie, one of the worst teams in the league. Like I said, nothing good on."

I shrugged. "Why did you call Edwin about it?"

"I didn't. He called me."

"And what did he say?"

"He wanted to know if I was bored. I said yes."

"That bastard," I muttered under my breath.

"What did you say?"

"That dastardly fiend."

She laughed. "There's no way you said that."

I snatched the remote and turned off the TV. "Shut up and go to bed."

She got up and mimicked me. "Ooh, shut up and go to bed."

I threw the remote at her and she shrieked. "Now!"

She giggled as she ran up the stairs, the bottoms of her pajamas flaring at her shins instead of her ankles.

..::..

After spending some time on the Internet researching the Snowflake Festival, I decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all. The outdoor hockey was arranged so there would be an exhibition game for each level of youth hockey, and, when I called, they told me there was still space in the Peewee level for Marti. There also seemed to be a lot of carnival games and rides, and they had arranged for a few public showings of the _Ice Age_ movies, which Simon loved. The outlet malls even had sales going on, which was perfect since Casey enjoyed taking the kids shopping more than I did, and they needed some new clothes.

The kicker though was that I hadn't seen any of my siblings since Christmas, and apparently I'd gone soft in my old age and that kind of thing was actually mattering.

So, I packed a suitcase of my clothes, and a suitcase for Simon, and loaded all of that in the Jetta along with Marti's clothes and hockey gear. As I struggled to see out of the rearview mirror, I cursed myself for being stubborn and not taking the SUV from Lizzie when I had the chance.

"Did you go to the bathroom?" I asked Simon and Marti before starting the car.

"I'm not five," Marti snorted.

"Yeah, but this is a three hour drive and I really only want to stop once."

"I'm not a baby," Marti repeated.

"What about you big guy?"

"I'm not a baby either," he said, not looking up from his Gameboy.

"Yeah, but you haven't stopped playing your Gameboy…"

"It's a 3DS…"

"Ok, well you haven't stopped playing your Gameboy…"

"It's a 3DS. They haven't made Gameboys since you were Marti's age."

"Well, that's just not true."

"The last Gameboy was the Gameboy Advance and that came out in 2001…"

"Buddy, I wasn't asking about the Gameboy, I was asking about whether you had gone to the bathroom."

"…and in 2001, you were 10, which is about Marti's age…"

"Simon, did you go to the bathroom?"

"…and they made the first DS in 2004, when you were 13…"

"Simon, did you go to the bathroom?"

"Der-ek, just start the car!" Marti shrieked.

"Ok, fine, I'm just going to assume that you went to the bathroom and I'm starting the car."

I pulled out of the driveway and I changed the stereo to play music off my iPhone, and before I could even select a song, Simon piped up from the backseat. "Derek, I have to go potty."

I laid my forehead on the horn hard enough that it honked, and then did a U-turn to go back to the house.

..::..

Four bathroom breaks later, we passed a little sign on the highway that said, "Welcome to Snowflake, home of the Snowflake Festival!" I figured that was a good sign: the festival was a big enough deal that they put it on the sign.

Marti helped me navigate through town, which was amusingly decorated with snowflakes of all shapes hanging from the traffic lights and light posts, to the Snowflake Inn. I was happy to see Casey's familiar powder blue Scion sitting in the parking lot. Marti squealed again when she saw it, but Simon seemed unfazed.

I parked the car and turned around to face him, "We're here!"

He quietly undid his seat belt and opened his door, all without looking up from his Game…3DS.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked…myself, when I turned and realized that Marti had also gotten out of the car. "What's wrong with me?" I corrected.

We walked into the hotel lobby and saw Casey sitting by the fire with a textbook titled The Modern Law of Contracts. "Hey sis, getting some light reading done?" I called out to her.

She looked up with a frown. "Ha ha, very funny Derek. Hey guys!" Marti ran up to her and gave her a huge hug. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too!"

"Simon," she called out to him, "come over here and give your big sister a hug."

He didn't look up from his game as he walked over and into her outstretched arms. I followed him and also gave Casey a hug.

"What's up with him?" she whispered into my ear.

"I don't know," I whispered back. "Why are you down here studying?"

"Long story short, I have an exam on Tuesday," she replied.

"Why did you come to this if you have an exam on Tuesday?"

"I'll explain later. I have your room keys," she said, changing the subject abruptly. "We decided to do boys with the boys and girls with the girls." She handed Marti one key and gave me another.

"And Edwin and Sam have their own room, right?"

She shook her head. "I think they decided that they would both spend the night with you and Simon, since there are fewer people in that room."

"Oh," was all I could muster.

"I want to watch TV," Simon announced.

"Is Lizzie here?" I asked.

"Yeah, we picked her up from the nearest airport on the way here. She's was taking a nap in our room."

"And where are Edwin and Sam?"

Casey raised an eyebrow. "In your room."

"Oh?" I asked, not fully gasping her meaning.

Simon tugged at my shirt. "Derek, I wanna watch TV."

"You can go to our room and watch with Lizzie," Casey said.

"But she's sleeping?" I asked.

"So are Edwin and Sam," she hissed.

"Oh?" Then I realized what she meant. "Oh my god, why don't they have their own room?"

"Apparently, Sam's aunt and uncle said that they would need to charge full-price for the third room, and your frugal brother decided that wasn't necessary."

"I'll kill him," I muttered under my breath.

"It's only fair that you have to deal with it. Four hours of them in the backseat of my car was bad enough."

Marti thankfully took the rest of the trek to the girls' room to tell Casey about school and her life, which distracted both of us from how much we wanted to kill Edwin.

Casey unlocked the door, and Simon ran in and grabbed the remote off the bed next to Lizzie. He climbed up and the bed and laid his head on Lizzie's outstretched arm.

"Hey munchkin," she said tiredly.

"Hi," he said as he flipped the channels.

"What, no hug?" she asked.

He turned and briefly put his arms around her and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome."

"Hey guys," Lizzie waved to the rest of us. "Now that you're here, what's the plan for tonight?"

"Well," Casey started. "I think tonight we should go and check out the carnival games and rides. Then tomorrow, we can Marti and Simon clothes shopping in the morning before her game." She paused and allowed Marti to groan. "While Derek sleeps in." I nodded appreciatively: my sisters knew I only get to sleep in when they're with me. "Then we'll all go to the Marti's game, and we can either check out more of the carnival afterwards or go out to a nice restaurant. Sound good."

We all nodded in agreement.

"I don't see why we have to go clothes shopping," Marti groaned.

"It's either go shopping with Lizzie and Casey and get what you need, or go clothes shopping with me and get whatever we can find before I get bored and we leave," I answered.

She paused, as though she was seriously weighing her options. "I think I'll take my chances with Derek," she decided.

"Very funny Marti," Casey laughed.

"I'm serious," she declared. "At least with Derek, I won't have Simon complaining the entire time."

"Don't talk like that in front of him," Casey chided.

"Don't worry, I don't mind," I joked.

"Not you, Simon," Casey clarified.

"He's watching TV," Marti said. "He's oblivious."

"Fine, we'll split up when we get there," Casey decided. "You'll go with me and Simon will go with Lizzie. Does that sound good to you?"

Marti nodded. "Thank you!"

After a few hours of catching up and watching TV, Edwin and Sam finally decided to make themselves known. "Hey bro," he said once I opened the door. I glanced at Sam, who was wearing an oversized polo shirt that was clearly Edwin's. Instead of letting them in, I walked into the hallway and closed the door behind me.

"Hey Ed," I said as I hugged him. "How's your afternoon been?"

"Oh, you know," he stammered.

"Busy?" I suggested.

Both he and Sam laughed awkwardly. I gave Sam a hug and said, "Nice to see you."

"So, everyone else is in there?" he asked as he reached for the doorknob.

I swatted his hand away. "They are."

"Well, can I go in and see them?" he asked.

"I think we need to lay down some ground rules first," I said firmly.

"Ok," Edwin said nervously.

"First rule, no sex unless you get your own room."

"What?" Edwin's voice cracked, clearly shocked by my abruptness.

"No sex unless you get your own room. Unless you want to explain to Simon what a condom is when he finds it, or god forbid what you're doing if he sees you."

"Fine," Sam interrupted. She buried her face in her hands, clearly horrified by the conversation.

"Second rule, you will dress appropriately around Simon."

"What are you…" Edwin began.

"Wear your own clothes," I clarified. "Do you think Simon's not going to realize that she's wearing your shirt?"

"He won't notice," Edwin snorted.

"Ed, the shirt has your name embroidered on it!"

He turned to Sam and looked at his name on her chest. "Point taken."

"Last rule, you will keep your actions G rated while Simon is around."

"Fine," Sam agreed hurriedly. She turned and gave Edwin a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm just going to go to our room and put on a different top." Edwin stared at her as she walked down the hall and into our room.

"Why did you have to do that," he hissed.

"Because there are about ten conversations that I didn't want to have with Simon today to explain you two."

"God, you sound like dad." His eyes widened as he realized what he said.

I just pulled his head under my armpit and gave him a noogie. "Thanks Ed." I dragged him into the hotel room that way and yelled, "Hey, look who decided to join us!"

..::..

That night we went out and had a great time at the carnival. Too great for some of us: Sam complained that she ate too many fried Oreos and Edwin had to escort her back to the Inn, while Simon was so tired that I wound up carrying him around from booth to booth as Marti continued to win the games and ride the rides.

"You know he doesn't do that for everyone," Lizzie said to me as we all walked back to the Inn. She was walking next to me while Casey was talking to Marti about what clothes she needed to buy tomorrow.

"Do what for everyone?" I asked.

"Trust," she replied with a quick stroke of Simon's hair. "When you and Casey would come home from college, he was always on guard. He knew that you were his brother and sister, and he loved you, but I don't think he really ever trusted you until you moved back to London."

"I never thought about it like that," I admitted

"He's still a little distant with Casey," she admitted in turn.

"I sort of noticed."

"He'll get better in time," she said. "There's a lot of change right now."

I nodded. "So, was there anyone that you wanted to bring on this trip?"

"Nope," she replied.

"Have you been seeing anyone?"

"No," she replied again. "It's hard putting myself out there when I feel like damaged goods."

"I know what you mean, but you're not damaged goods. Your parents just died. It'll take some time for things to feel normal again."

She nodded, slightly taken aback by what I said. "That's not…yeah, you've got a point. So there was no one you wanted to bring either?"

"Nope," I sighed. "I did go on a date a few weeks ago though."

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Terribly!" Marti interjected as she ran ahead of us into the Inn's lobby.

"I feel you," Lizzie laughed.

We walked up the stairs to our rooms in silence, not wanting to wake anyone. When I reached my door though, I was slightly horrified by what I saw.

There was a sock on the door.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said as I pressed my ear towards the door. I didn't hear anything, so I assumed that it was just a joke.

I opened the door slowly and peeked my head inside.

It was definitely not a joke. Edwin and Sam were actively breaking rule number one. And, by extension, the other rules, but really it was the first rule that had me mad.

There were so many things that I wanted to say, but I crossed the hallway to the girls' room and rapped lightly on the door.

"Did you forget something?" Casey asked when she opened the door.

"Nope. There was a sock on the door of our room."

Casey laughed. "Like in college? Come on, no one actually does that. I'm sure Edwin's playing a joke on you."

"He's not."

"How do you know?"

"I checked."

The laughter disappeared off Casey's face. "Oh."

"Yeah. I think we need to spend the night in this room."

"Yeah, just give us a second," she said as she shut the door. After about a minute, she opened the door again. "Come on in."

I gently laid Simon down one of the empty beds. "How are we going to arrange this?" I asked.

"Well, the three of us can sleep in one bed and you two can sleep in the other," Casey suggested.

"No way!" Marti protested. "Just because Edwin's being a…"

"Language," I warned.

"A prick," Lizzie finished for her. She seemed more upset by this situation than I was.

I shrugged. "If the shoe fits. I agree with Marti. I'll sleep on the floor. So, who should share the bed with Simon."

"I'll do it," Marti said. "I'm used to him."

"Works for me," Lizzie agreed.

"Are you sure you'll be alright on the floor?" Casey asked again.

"I'm sure." I took a blanket and spare pillow out of the closet and lay down on the floor.

..::..

I didn't get to sleep in the way I was supposed to. But that's what happens when you sleep on the floor next to the windows. Fortunately though, once the girls took the kids shopping, I had the room to myself.

Around eleven, I went down to the Inn's restaurant to get something to eat for lunch. Edwin and Sam were down there already, and once we awkwardly made eye contact, she motioned for me to come over and join them.

"Good morning," Edwin said when I approached the table.

"If I go to the room so I can brush my teeth and change my clothes, will I be disgusted by what I find?"

"We didn't mean to…" Edwin began.

"I don't care Edwin."

"Seriously, I'm sorry. Can I buy your lunch to…"

"I'm not interested Edwin."

"He really is sorry," Sam defended.

"I'm glad," I said between gritted teeth as left the restaurant.

..::..

A few hours later, I walked Marti down to the outdoor rink carrying all of her gear.

"I'm sorry you had to sleep in the same bed as Simon last night," I said.

"It's not your fault."

"I know," I snorted. "Believe me, I know. But I still feel badly."

"It's fine. I'm just ready to take my anger out on someone."

"Remember, if you get ejected from this game, you'll never be allowed to play in this outdoor game again."

"And what a shame that would be," she replied sarcastically.

I smirked and walked up to the registration desk. "Hi, I'm here to check in Marti Venturi for the two o'clock peewee game."

The registration lady looked baffled. "Sorry, I only have a Martin Venturi signed up."

"It's a typo, I'm sure," I told the lady.

"Ah yes, I'm sure it is," she agreed. "Yes, I have all of your paperwork right here," she said, handing me a white jersey with a giant snowflake on the front. "89, as you requested."

"Thanks! Marti will be thrilled."

"I'm sure he will. Make sure he's on the ice for warm ups at a quarter of."

I decided to ignored the lady's gender confusion, since her name was Martin in the program, and walked back to Marti to hand her the jersey. "Look, you get your own jersey."

"Cool," she said as she threw it on over her pads. "Did you see this?" she asked as she tossed the program at me.

"Yeah, they told me that there was a typo with your name."

"It's not that," she pointed at the roster of the white team. "I'm the only girl."

"Well, it's a coed exhibition game, so if I talk to the coach…"

"DON'T!" Marti hissed. "Let them think I'm a boy."

"Can you pull it off?" I asked.

She tucked her ponytail into her helmet. "Without my ponytail showing, my hair is shorter than most of these boys. Besides, I'm the fastest skater on my team and I lead my team in points. If they know I'm a girl, they won't let me play a lot. If they think I'm a boy, they might not treat me differently."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Don't you think they'll notice you're a girl when they talk to you?"

She pushed me with a gloved hand. "Have you ever heard an eleven year-old boy talk?"

I shrugged. "Fair enough." I handed her stick to her as she stood up. "Knock 'em dead."

She smirked. "That's the plan." She walked over to the area where the other peewee skaters were gathering, waiting for warm-ups.

I walked into the grandstands and found an empty bench near the red line and towards the back. I had learned a long time ago not to watch these games where other parents sit. That's a quick way to get ejected, at least when you complain about other players the way I do.

Eventually, the atom players finished skating, they cleaned the ice surface, and the peewee players were allowed to start warming up. I could see that the coach was watching Marti, who seemed to be near the top of the pack in terms of speed and shooting accuracy. After a few minutes, he blew his whistle and started assigning them into lines and had them do a few drills. Even though most of the other kids knew each other and seemed to have chemistry, Marti's line scored the most goals in the drills thanks to her playmaking. By the time they cleared the ice and had the players sit on the bench, I could tell that Marti had secured either first or second line status.

Just before two o'clock, Lizzie and Casey walked up the stands with Simon in tow. "Have we missed anything?" Lizzie asked.

"Nope! You're right on time."

As soon as I said that, the referee blew his whistle and put thirty minutes on the clock. To keep the games moving in a timely fashion, they were doing a running clock with no intermission. The white team's coach put out Marti's line for the opening faceoff against the blue team.

Marti looked up into the stands and flashed a wicked smile. I knew that look.

When the referee blew his whistle, Marti skated forward to the center dot to take the faceoff. She easily won the faceoff and passed it back to a defenseman. The defenseman quickly coughed up the puck to an opposing winger. Marti smirked and skated weekly after the closest player. As soon as the player with the puck saw that there was an opening, he passed the puck towards her man.

Marti quickly sped up and reached out with her stick to intercept the pass, shocking the other team with her sudden burst of energy. She did a swift turn to change directions without giving up too much momentum, creating a one-on-one opportunity. The defenseman tried to poke-check the puck, but Marti sidestepped and skated past him. When it was just her and the goalie, she put the puck on her backhand and easily put it over the goalie's shoulder and into the net.

The crowd cheered, but it was clear where Marti's biggest supporters were.

Marti skated past her bench, fist bumping all the players as she went past.

The coach gave her line at least four or five extra shifts compared to the other players, and that decision paid off. Although the other team was careful not to underestimate her again and kept their fastest defensemen close to her at all times, she was able to create space for her linemates and set up a few goals. When the final horn blew, Marti had helped her team cruise to a 7-5 victory, racking up a goal and three assists in the process.

The players lined up for the handshake, and Marti smugly took off her helmet let her braid fall down, showing the whole arena her ponytail.

"She's got a lot of nerve showing all those boys that they just got beat by a girl."

Lizzie smirked. "Are you kidding me? I would've done the same thing if I was her."

After the players finished their handshake, I walked to the door to the arena, where some guy grabbed me and shook my hand.

"Your number 89's dad, right?"

"Mostly," I replied. "And you are?"

"A local scout. I know she's young, but give me a call when it comes time to look at universities. She outclassed those boys, and she'd be a force to be reckoned with at the collegiate level." He shoved a business card into my hand.

"Thank you," I said, but by the time I finished reading his name, the man had moved on to smooth-talk some other parent.

"Smerek!" Marti called.

"Smarti!" I said when I found her and picked her up in a huge hug. "You did awesome!"

"Thanks! Now put me down, you're making me look like a girl."

..::..

That night, Lizzie took the kids to see the _Ice Age_ movie they were playing in a local park, which left Casey and me alone to discuss what happened the previous night with Edwin. Except, neither of us really knew what we wanted to discuss. It was a difficult situation: neither of us were really in a position to punish him, and even if we were, we weren't sure that we wanted to. I decided that I wanted to go down to the inn's restaurant for a drink before continuing our conversation.

After I ordered a beer, Edwin walked in and took the seat across from me. "Hey," he said.

"Hey. What did you two do today?"

"We just walked around, and then we went to Marti's game."

"She played great, didn't she?"

"She really did. Dad would have loved that move she pulled at the beginning of the game."

At the mention of Dad, we both went silent. When the waitress came by with my drink, Edwin motioned for her to bring one for him too.

"I'm really sorry for last night."

"I know," I admitted.

"We wanted to get our own room, but…"

"I heard it was too expensive for you to get a third room," I interrupted. "Thanks for saving me all that money."

Edwin shook his head. "I lied to Casey and Lizzie. The truth is that, when I asked for a third room, Sam's aunt and uncle told me that her parents had called ahead and told them not to give us the room."

"Really?" I asked.

The waitress came over and gave Edwin his drink. "Yeah. Sam called them, and apparently they think that she's only still going out with me because I'm in a 'fragile state' and that she hasn't broken up with me because she's afraid of what I'll do."

"Is any of that true?"

He paused and took a long drink. "I'm not sure," he finally admitted. "She says it's not, but we weren't all that serious before the accident."

"What were you?"

"Casual," Edwin said with a smirk. "We would hook-up just about every weekend, and we would hang out during the week, but we wouldn't sit down and talk about our feelings or the future before the accident." He took another drink. "Then, afterwards, we were all feelings and future, but nothing physical."

It was my turn to take a drink. "You could have fooled me."

"We never did it in her room. She lives in the dorms with her cousin, so it would just be all kinds of weird. And after the accident, we couldn't do it in my apartment, because I had all these pictures of Dad and Mom and it just felt weird. We needed to get away."

I attempted to take another sip of my beer, but it was empty, so I motioned for another round from the waitress.

"I'm sure you wouldn't understand," he said sheepishly.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked. "I haven't had sex since the accident. Hell, I've only been on one date since then, and it was a complete disaster. I can't even imagine bringing a girl home right now. I live in our parent's room for Christ's sake."

The waitress came by and gave us both another drink.

"I understand that," Edwin began, "but this is probably your longest dry-spell since high school."

It took everything in my power to keep me from spitting my drink up. "What?"

"Don't deny it," Edwin said. "You were the man in high school."

"I was also the virgin," I admitted.

Edwin was not so successful at keeping his drink in his mouth. I picked up the napkin and dapped the beer off my face. "Sorry, but you're telling me with all those girlfriends and dates, you didn't have sex in high school."

"I didn't," I admitted. "Wow, it feels good to be honest. I should do this more often. I was the one who hid those Playboys under your bed when you were in high school."

"You did…that's not the point. Not even at prom?"

"Especially not at prom! Emily and I were basically on our first date."

"So when did you…"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells," I said smugly.

"You're no gentleman."

I paused and took a sip while I considered it. "Fair enough. Emily didn't want to have sex until I was committed to raising a child with her if she got pregnant."

"And how long did that take?"

"Our junior year of college."

"And you were…"

"21."

"Isn't that when you broke up?"

I took another drink. "Yeah, it wasn't too long after. She said that, since I was ready to raise a child with her if birth control failed, then we should just get engaged and admit that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together."

"And you disagreed?"

"I did then." I finished my beer. "I told you my story. Now you have to tell me yours."

He sighed and also finished his beer. The waitress was ready and came over with two more. "I wanted to be just like you," he began.

"And let's face it, who doesn't."

"Well, if you had told me back then that you didn't lose your virginity in high school, it would have been a lot easier."

"How old were you?"

"It was junior prom. I was seventeen."

"Your date?" I asked.

"Yep," he replied.

We both finished our latest drink, though Edwin fidgeted with the bottle. I had no idea what was making him nervous, but when the waitress attempted to bring another round, I waived her off and gave her a credit card so we could close out. Edwin just seemed a little too worked up.

"Well, this conversation got off topic fast," Edwin said.

"No. Well, yes it did, but it was helpful."

"Really?" Edwin asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I think I understand where you're coming from, and I forgive you for last night."

"Thanks Derek. Promise this all stays between us? I don't want Sam to know that I have doubts about everything."

"I swear," I said as we stood. "Now let's hug this out!"

"We're not the hug it out type."

"We are tonight," I declared as I wrapped my arms around him.

..::..

The next day, I was able to sleep in, thanks to my younger brother and his girlfriend generously taking Simon out of our room when he woke up to get him some breakfast. In fact, by the time I woke up, it was nearly check out time, so I gathered all of our things in the room.

By the time I loaded up all of our suitcases, and all of the new clothes that Simon and Marti had gotten during the weekend, I definitely wasn't able to see out the rearview mirror.

When it was time to leave, I hugged all of my siblings.

"Bye Lizzie," I said as I hugged her. "Love you and thanks for all your help this weekend."

"My pleasure," she said. "Love you too."

"Bye Casey," I said as I moved down the line to hug her.

"Bye Derek."

"You know you never did get to explain to me why you decided to come this weekend, even though you have an exam on Tuesday."

"It's not important," she shrugged. "I'll tell you later. Drive safely."

"You too. Keep up the good work."

"You too," she said, causing me to smirk. "Love you.

"You too."

Next was Sam. She tried to shake my hand, but I brushed it off and hugged her. "Don't worry," I said. "I couldn't stay mad at the woman brave enough to date my brother."

"Thanks Derek."

"Take care of him for me, okay?" I said with a wink to Edwin over her shoulder.

"I will," she promised.

The last one was Edwin.

"So, was this a great idea, or what?" he asked.

"It was exactly what I needed," I said as I hugged him.  
"I know."

"Love you man."

"Love you too bro."

We patted each other on the back, the way bros do, and then I hopped in the car and started it.

Marti and Simon continued to wave to their siblings.

"I hate to ask, but did you go to the bathroom?"

"Der-ek!" Marti shrieked.

"Alright, I get it." I turned around to Simon in the backseat. "What about you."

"Der-ek!" he shrieked.

"I can't win," I said as I started the car. "This time, I'm serious! We're only stopping once!"

..::..

On the way home, we only stopped three times.

It's the little things in life, right?

* * *

Thank you for reading! As always, please review to let me know your thoughts, or if you found any spelling/grammar errors!


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